R-NA 
>S-AT 
IINUM 


IENRY 
1ENRY 


BATTLING   NELSON 

Lightweight  Champion  of  the  World 


LIFE,  BATTLES  AND 
CAREER 


OF 


Battling  Nelson 

Lightweight  Champion 
of  the  World 


By 

HIMSELF 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  TAD  AND  EDGREN 


HEGEWISCH.  ILL. 
1908 


Copyright,  1908,  by 
BATTLING    NELSON 


INTRODUCTORY 


RICHEST  PUGILIST  IN  THE  WORLD  TELLS  HOW  HIS  PROWESS 
IN  THE  RING  HAS  BROUGHT  HIM  WEALTH- PROUD  OF  HIS 
RECORD   OF   100  PER  CENT  AT   ALGEBRA  IN   SCHOOL  - 
SHREWD    INVESTMENTS    OF    HIS    EARNINGS  -  BORN 
ON  DANISH  INDEPENDENCE  DAY  AND  BEAT  CANS 
ON  THE  GLORIOUS  FOURTH  -  HERE'S  A  SCRAP- 
PER   WHO    SEEMS    TO    BE    A    PRETTY 
LEVEL-HEADED     BUSINESS     MAN 


Oscar  Battling  Matthew  Nelson,  lightweight  champion  of  tht 
world  and  richest  of  all  living  pugilists,  is  the  one  "New  Giant" 
who  has  accomplished  his  life  ambition.  The  left  half-scissors 
hook  on  the  liver  that  blasted  Joe  Cans'  ring  career  and  ended 
the  Old  Master's  reign  as  monarch  of  the  lightweights  made 
Nelson  the  happiest  man  in  America. 

Nelson  is  a  unique  champion.  He  is  a  fighter,  pure  and  simple. 
There  is  nothing  of  the  fancy  boxer  about  his  style.  His  rug- 
gedness  and  apparent  disregard  for  his  opponent's  blows  have 
finally  conquered  all  of  the  other  claimants  to  the  title  which 
he  now  holds.  He  has  never  been  knocked  out,  and  from  his 
past  record  it  appears  that  he  never  will  be.  Terry  McGovern, 
Young  Corbett,  Jimmy  Britt,  Aurelia  Herrera  and  finally  Joe 
Cans  have  all  struck  Nelson  flush  on  the  point  of  the  jaw  and 
in  the  solar  plexus — or  rather  where  the  solar  plexus  ought  to 
be — only  to  have  Nelson  shake  the  punches  off,  come  back  and 
win.  Several  of  these  men  have  sent  Nelson  crashing  to  the 
floor  with  sufficient  force  to  break  his  bones,  but  the  Battler  has 
always  risen  before  the  fatal  ten  had  been  counted  over  him. 

Terry  McGovern  jammed  his  sturdy  fist  against  Nelson's  jaw 
time  and  again  with  all  his  strength  and  weight  behind  it — and 
Terry  could  hit — but  the  blows  never  feazed  the  Dane,  and  he 


II  BATTLING    NELSON 

kept  coming  without  appearing  to  have  even  felt  the  jarring 
punches. 

Nelson  is  the  fourth  real  lightweight  champion  since  the  peer- 
less Jack  McAuliffe  retired  with  the  title.  The  Durable  One 
says  he  is  worth  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars,  and  does  not 
care  if  he  ever  sees  a  glove  again.  He  has  always  fought  on 
the  level,  and  says  he  would  rather  fight  than  eat.  Withal  he 
is  intelligent  and  posseses  more  schooling  than  the  average 
prize  ring  champion.  He  boasts  of  his  record  as  »a  mathema- 
tician. 

He  began  at  the  bottom  of  the  pugilistic  ladder  and  grad- 
ually worked  his  way  up  till  he  reached  the  pinnacle  of  success 
in  the  ring. 

Bat  has  also  written  a  special  story — My  Ring  Experiences 
With  the  Negro  Population. 

In  addition  to  Battling  Nelson's  own  stories  of  his  life,  he 
has  written  a  Synopsis  of  the  two  foremost  cartoonists  in  the 
world — T.  A.  Dorgan  known  as  TAD,  Sporting  Cartoonist  of 
the  New  York  Evening  Journal,  and  Robert  Edgren,  known  as 
Bob  Edgren,  Sporting  Editor  and  Cartoonist  of  the  New  York 
Evening  World-. 

There  are  also  a  few  stones  of  the  Battler's  career  that  tell 
of  the  thrilling  times  he  has  had  during  his  climb  to  the  cham- 
pionship. They  are  reproduced  in  this  book,  word  for  word,  as 
they  were  written  by  the  authors. 

The  stories  that  appear  are: 

By  John  R.  Robinson:  Dr.  Dudley  A.  Sergent's  Examina- 
tion— Nelson  A  Human  Being. 

By  Bat:    Synopsis  of  the  Lightweight  Champion. 

By  W.  J.  (Spike)  Slattery:  Fighting  Dane  Thrives  on  Pun- 
ishment and  Wears  Down  His  Rival. 

By  John  Wallace  Crawford:  Why  Battling  Nelson  Fights. 

By  Jack  London :  Brain  Beaten  By  Brute  Force,  or  Nelson,  "the 
Abysmal  Brute,"  Beat  Britt,  the  Intelligent  Creature. 

By  Miss  Etta  Foster:  How  a  Woman  Views  a  Fight  and 
Fighters. 


BATTLING  NELSON  *  III 

By  Ashton  Stevens :  Tragedy  Is  Mirrored  in  Face  of  Britt's 
Father. 

By  Fred  Eldridge:  The  Battler's  Training  Camp  at  Essing- 
ton  on  the  Delaware;  Preparing  for  McGovern  Fight. 

By  English  Jack:  The  Battler  at  Los  Angeles  Assisting  the 
Destitute  of  San  Francisco's  Calamity — The  Earthquake  Shock 
Came  5:18  A.M.,  April  18,  1906. 

By  R.   H.  Guelich:    That  Little  Battling,  Fighting  Dane. 

By  Chicago  Examiner :  Nelson  in  a  Class  by  Himself,  Says 
Joe  Cans. 

By  R.  A.  Smyth :  Youth,  Perpetual  Motion  and  the  Durability 
of  Concrete  Wall,  a  Winning  Combination.  „. 

By  D.  D.  Crowley,  M.D. :  Nelson's  Heart  Is  Like  Man  of 
Iron. 


The  Nelson  Family,  One  of  the  Oldest 
and  Most  Blue-Blooded  in  His- 
toric Old  Denmark. 


THE  CHAMPION  COMES  OF  THAT  GRAND  OLD 
DANISH  FIGHT-ING  STOCK. 


BY    BATTLING    NELSON, 

Lightweight  Champion  of  the  World. 

My  full  name  is  Oscar  Battling 
Matthew  Nelson.  I  was  born  on 
June  5,  1882  in  Copenhagen,  Den- 
mark, the  day  on  which  \ve  Danes 
celebrate  the  winning  of  Indepen- 
dence. Though  born  on  foreign 
soil  I  herewith  proclaim  myself  an 
American  in  every  sense  of  the 
word. 

When  scarcely  one  year  old  my 
parents  and  their  small  family  emi- 
grated to  this  glorious  land  of  the 
free,  and  the  home  of  the  brave. 
This  was  in  1883.  Father  and 
Mother  had  relatives  in  the  West, 
and  therefore  we  did  not  tarry 
long  in  New  York.  We  landed  in 
Oshkosh,  Wis.,  that  fall,  and  settled 
down  on  a  neat  little  truck  farm  which  father  had  pur- 
chased. We  remained  there  one  year  after  which  we 
moved  to  Dalton,  111.,  a  place  not  far  from  Chicago 

7 


BAT. 


8 


BATTLING   NELSON 


proper.  The  following  Spring  we  moved  to  our  present 
home  Hegewisch,  111.  Therefore  the  Nelsons  have  been 
residing  in  Hegewisch  for  23  years  or  more. 

THE    BATTLER    GOES    TO    HEGEWISCH    SCHOOL. 

I  was  sent  to  the  Henry  Clay  school  when  six  years 
old,  and  continued  to  master  English  until  I  was  13. 
Hegewisch  is  located  within  a  short  distance  of  Wolf 
Lake  and  Lake  Michigan,  one  of  the  largest  bodies  of 
fresh  water  in  the  world..  The  chief  industries  of  this 
thriving  little  town  in  those  days  were  truck  gardening, 
Ice  cutting,  and  meat  packing.  The  lakes  in  the  vicinity 
each  winter  gave  up  tons  upon  tons  of  beautiful  clear 
ice  which  was  shipped  to  all  parts  of  the  country.  The 
winter  seasons  found  nearly  every  able  bodied  man, 
youths,  and  mere  kids  like  myself  employed  cutting,  stor- 
ing and  packing  the  big  cold  cakes  for  the  Chicago 
market.  Boys  were  employed  to  drive  the  horses  used 
for  hauling  trie  ice.  I  showed  an  early  aptitude  for  the 


SUWI.Y  HOO>$  OUT 

TMt  6KTTUR  IAAY  COMPlE TE  AHOTMtft  t*6 

WHO*  i  w«ou  THE  STO&Y  of  Mr  UFE." 


BATTLING    NELSON  9 

business,  and  secured  a  steady  position  with  John  Daline, 
the  ICE  MAN  of  Hegevvisch.  My  first  week's  work 
netted  me  90  cents,  or  15  cents  per  day. 

I  remained  in  Daline's  employ  all  Winter,  and  as  I  had 
been  attentive  to  business  and  worked  hard  Mr.  Daline 
appealed  to  my  father  to  allow  me  to  continue  in  his 
employ.  I  wanted  to  go  back  to  work  in  preference  to 
going  back  to  school. 

I  forged  ahead  gradually,  and  before  I  quit  Daline  to 
enter  the  employ  of  the  G.  H.  Hammond  Co.,  I  was 
drawing  one  dollar  a  day.  I  picked  up  the  fine  points 
of  the  business  rapidly  and  from  driver  was  promoted  to 
cutter,  timekeeper,  and  finally  assistant  foreman.  During 
this  time  I  was  going  to  night  school. 

It  was  this  early  taste  of  heavy,  hard  outdoor  work 

.  which  served  to  build  up  and  make  a  strong,  sturdy  "kid" 

of  me.     Though  not  very  tall  I  was  stockily  built  for  a 

youngster,  and  when  I  quit  the  Hammond  Company  I 

was  really  doing  a  man's  work. 

HE  FIGHTS  CIRCUS  CHAMPION. 

I  was  in  the  employ  of  this  company  when  I  made  my 
first  public  appearance  as  a  boxer,  or  prizefighter,  at 
Wallace's  Circus,  in  Hammond,  Ind.,  on  Sept.  3,  1896. 
Hammond  is  only  a  few  miles  from  Hegewisch. 

At  the  time  I  was  working  as  a  meatcutter.  On  ac- 
count of  the  warm  weather  we  were  working  only  three 
or  four  days  a  week  and,  of  course,  being  such  a  kid,  I 
was  anxious  to  see  the  circus  when  it  arrived  in  town. 
I  applied  there  and  asked  for  the  job  of  carrying  a  banner 
in  the  parade,  or  carrying  water  to  the  elephants. 

The  manager  lined  us  up  in  the  parade  and  after  its 
conclusion  we  kids  were  put  to  work  carrying  water  to 
the  elephants,  for  which  work  we  were  handed  passes 
for  the  show.  I  had  gained  quite  a  reputation  about 
Hammond  and  Hegewisch  as  a  shifty,  hard-hitting  sort 
of  a  kid  and  naturally  my  ability  as  a  boxer  was  greatly 


10  BATTLING   NELSON 

admired  by  all  the  youngsters  in  our  vicinity,  most  of 
whom  worked  in  the  factories  thereabouts. 

We  learned  that  Wallace  had  a  world  renowned  prize 
fighter  traveling  with  the  big  show  who  was  meeting  all 
comers.  The  strangest  part  of  the  affair  was  the  fact 
that  no  one  seemed  to  know  just  who  he  was  or  where 
he  had  won  his  reputation  as  a  "maneater."  Wallace 
positively  refused  to  divulge  his  identity. 

COMRADE   MAKES  BOLD  CHALLENGE. 

We  hove  in  front  of  the  main  entrance  of  the  show 
long  before  the  affair  had  opened,  and  one  of  my  com- 
rades, who  possessed  an  unusual  amount  of  nerve,  boldly 
stepped  into  the  manager's  tent  and  said :  "Say,  boss, 
we've  gotta  feller  here  wid  us  named  Bat  Nelson  wot's 
willin'  to  meet  dat  champ  of  yourn  to-night.  What 
would  you  give  if  our  champ  knocks  de  block  off  you* 
great  slugging  unknown  " 

The  old  manager,  used  to  such  'incidents  as  this, 
laughed  heartily  and  said:  "Well,  if  your  pal  stands  up 
the  full  three  rounds  necessary  before  my  man,  why  I'll 
give  him  a  dollar.  Besides,  if  he  should  actually  manage 
to  win,  why  I'll  give  him  a  chance  to  try  each  succeeding 
night." 

That  suited  me  to  a  nicety,  and  while  we  all  enjoyed 
the  show  very  much  we  were  all  anxious  to  hear  the  big 
lusty-lunged  ringmaster  announce  the  "main  scream"  of 
the  evening's  entertainment,  the  appearance  of  the  sensa- 
tional whirlwind  lightweight  wonder-fighting  champion 
of  the  world — Wallace's  unknown. 

My  fighting  togs  consisted  of  a  thin  well-worn,  red 
sweater  in  which  I  worked  and  a  pair  of  low  rubber  shoes. 
The  big,  white  tent  was  packed  to  suffocation  with 
citizens  of  Hammond,  Hegewisch,  South  Chicago,  and 
other  small  burgs  thereabouts.  Three  of  my  brothers 
were  there  and,  of  course,  were  unaware  of  the  fact  that 
I  was  awaiting  my  turn  to  tackle  the  "Demon'/ — to  go 


BATTLING   NELSON  11 

into  the  sawdust  covered  arena  and  dance  before  the 
public  for  the  first  time  as  a  fighter. 

STING   OF   DEATH    IN    EVERY    BLOW. 

The  manager  of  the  show  grabbed  me  roughly  by  the 
shoulder  and  hustled  me  into  a  side  tent  saying:  "Now, 
kid,  be  game  and  don't  allow  this  fierce  man-eater  to  kill 
you.  He  hits  like  a  trip-hammer  and  the  very  sting  of 
death  is  in  every  blow." 

Now,  kind  reader,  you  can  easily  depict  the  string  of 
chills  and  thrills  which  chased  themselves  up,  down  and 
across  my  spinal  column.  The  sea  of  faces,  the  roaring 
of  the  lions  and  other  wild  animals,  and  the  wonderful 
glare  of  the  hundreds  of  flaming  lights  were  sufficient  to 
unnerve  anyone.  Inside  the  tent  I  met  face  to  face  the 
terrible  Unknown.  He  was  stripped  for  action  already, 
and  was  nervously  pacing  the  floor  like  a  caged  tiger, 
ready  to  spring  upon  and  throttle  the  innocent  lamb  (the 
dub  who  was  to  face  him). 

The  manager,  with  a  growl,  said,  addressing  the  Un- 
known, "Here,  Jack,  is  Bat  Nelson,  who  is  going  to  try 
and  win  a  dollar  of  your  money  to-night  by  staying  on 
his  feet  for  three  rounds !" 

Jack  was  as  tough  a  looking  fellow  as  I  had  ever  seen 
or  have  met  since.  He  stood  about  five  feet  six,  and,  of 
course,  was  a  few  inches  taller  than  I.  He  possessed 
broad,  compactly-built  shoulders,  had  a  square,  heavy 
jaw,  and,  all  in  all,  was  a  rather  likely  looking  fellow. 
He  would  have  passed  for  a  twin  brother  of  Kid  Broad. 
I  wasn't  much  on  muscle  or  breadth  of  shoulders  then, 
but  1  had  worked  hard  and  long  for  two  years  hauling 
ice,  shovelling  coal  and  doing  some  butchering  also,  and, 
for  a  kid,  had  a  beaut  of  a  sleep  producer  myself. 

Jack  would  hardly  look  at  me  and  he  growled,  "All 
right,  we'll  see  him  stand  it  out." 

BAT    NELSON    THE    PACKING-HOUSE    PRIDE. 

Then  the  band  played  "Down  Went  McGinty,"  and  the 


12  BATTLING   NELSON 

big  audience  roared  in  laughter  as  the  announcer  sang 
out  that  one,  Bat  Nelson,  the  Packing-house  Pride,  would 
take  the  chance  of  his  life  and  attempt  to  stand  up  before 
the  ferocious  onslaughts  of  "Wallace's  Wonderful  I'n- 
known." 

They  say  that  my  elder  brother,  Albert,  fell  off  his  seat, 
close  to  where  the  ring  was  pitched,  from  sheer  excite- 
ment when  I  was  tamely  led  into  the  ring :  that  my  little 
brother  Harry  tossed  up  both  hands  and  fainted  dead 
away  of  fright.  But  my  faithful  gang  was  there  and 


ready  to  see  me  through,  even  if  they  had  to  break  up 
the  circus  and  kill  all  the  wild  animals.  I  became  a  bit 
cheerful  when  I  saw  them  settled  about  the  ringside,  all 
apparently  supremely  confident. 

It  didn't  take  long  for  us  to  get  started,  though  I  must 
say  I  felt  awfully  queer  when  the  bell  clanged  and  the 
announcer  cried  "Fight!" 

THE  GREAT  "UNKNOWN"   IS  TAMED. 

Round  One — He  made  a  bound  at  me  before  the  gong 
had  ceased  to  chime,  and  everybody  expected  me  to  toss 


BATTLING    NELSON  13 

up  both  arms  and  go  down  and  out.  But  I  didn't!  If 
ever  he  made  a  mistake  in  his  life  he  made  it  here  trying 
his  rushing  tactics  on  me,  the  best,  even  then,  of  all  kid 
rushers.  I  met  his  rush  flatfooted,  with  both  hands  set 
in  front  of  me,  the  left  a  bit  high  and  out.  On  he  came 
and  collided  with  that  trusty  left  of  mine  with  such  force 
that  I  almost  tossed  him  to  the  sawdust. 

Back  he  went  staggering,  with  blood  streaming  from 
his  nose  and  mouth.  I  had  not  been  touched.  I  then 
jumped  forward  and  whaled  in  a  terrific  right  uppercut 
which  landed  squarely  over  his  heart.  He  was  pawing 
the  air  like  a  bronco  now,  and  his  trainers  were  frantically 
crying  out :  "Knock  his  block  off.  Jack  !  Rush  him  through 
the  ropes !  Don't  let  that  dub  beat  you !" 

Yes,  and  I  have  to  give  it  to  Jack  for  his  gameness. 
He  came  right  back  at  me  and  handed  out  a  hard  jolt 
flush  to  my  jaw.  That  one  crack  set  the  house  roaring 
for  my  opponent,  but  Mr.  Unknown,  after  landing,  for- 
got to  get  out  of  the  way,  and  over  flashed  my  left  to 
his  jaw,  while  I  countered  hard  with  right  to  the  wind. 
Then  something  dropped  like  a  bundle  of  lead  into  the 
deep  sawdust.  It  was  Wallace's  Terrible  Unknown — 
Wallace's  Ferocious  Maneater. 

He  wallowed  in  the  sawdust  like  a  chicken  with  its 
head  cut  off,  completely  knocked  out.  His  seconds  rushed 
over  to  where  he  lay  and  dashed  buckets  of  water  over 
him  in  an  attempt  to  revive  him.  ^The  house  was  in  a 
tumult  of  excitement  now. 

My  gang  danced  about  me  singing  "Down  Went  the 
Unknown,"  with  "McGinty"  and  other  songs.  The  sen- 
sational evening  will  hardly  be  forgotten  in  Hammond 
even  to  this  day. 

CIRCUS    OFFERS    BAT    A    JOB. 

The  manager  of  the  defeated  fighter,  of  course,  was 
greatly  put  out  over  the  easy  manner  in  which  I  dusted 
his  wonder  into  oblivion,  and  naturally  wanted  me  to 


14  BATTLING   NELSON 

play  a  return  engagement  the  next  evening.  He,  in  des- 
peration, followed  me  home  to  Hegewisch  and  wanted  to 
sign  me  up  to  travel  with  the  circus,  offering  a  salary  of 
$50  per  week  and  my  expenses. 

However,  my  parents  wouldn't  listen  to  such  a  propo- 
sition at  the  time,  informing  him  that  I  was  needed  at 
home  and  was  entirely  too  young  to  travel  with  such  an 
affair. 

When  the  excitement  that  prevailed  had  subsided  I 
asked  the  boys  what  had  become  of  my  coat  and  vest. 
Much  to  my  chagrin  I  discovered  that  some  of  the  circus 
hands  had  stolen  the  coat  which  contained  my  week's 
salary  of  $5.40  and  a  dandy  Waterbury  watch.  We  paid 
a  visit  to  Mr.  Manager  the  next  day  and  made  an  attempt 
to  recover  my  property,  but  with  little  success. 

I  had,  however,  decisively  trounced  their  star  boxer, 
and  there  was  at  least  some  satisfaction  in  that.  It  was 
that  opening  win  which  unquestionably  started  the  box- 
ing bee  in  my  bonnet,  and  if  old  Wallace  is  alive  to-day 
and  reads  this  story  I  guess  he'll  laugh  heartily  over 
that  great  night's  fun. 

Just  ten  years  after  this,  my  first  victory,  I  fought  the 
first  battle  with  Joe  Cans  for  the  lightweight  champion- 
ship of  the  world  at  Goldfield,  Nev.,  Sept.  3,  1906. 

Ten  years  doesn't  seem  very  long,  but  it  made  a  dif- 
ference in  size  of  purses  with  me  from  $1  to  $23,000. 
Going  up  a  bit! 


;a 

§8 


-  5 


15 


Bat's  Own  Story. 


HERE  ARE  THE  STATISTICS  WHICH  GIVE  IN  DETAIL 
THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  BATTLES  OF  THE  CHAM- 
PION, ALSO  TIME,  PLACE,  NUMBER  OF  ROUNDS, 
NAME  OF  OPPONENTS  AND  OTHER  DETAILS.  THE 
MOST  WONDERFUL  RECORD  EVER  MADE  BY  A 
FIGHTER.  FIRST  AUTHENTIC  RECORD  EVER  PUB- 
LISHED. 

BATTLING  NELSON. 

BORN,  June  5,  1882,  Copenhagen,  Denmark.  HEIGHT,  5  feet  7]/2 
inches;  WEIGHT,  133  Ibs. ;  NATIONALITY,  Dane;  COLOR,  White; 
HOME,  Hegewisch,  Illinois. 


1896                     NAME                           RE8TJLT 

PLACE 

ROUNDS 

Sept.      3—  Wallace's  Unknown      K 

Hammond,    Ind. 

1 

1897 

June       5—  Ole    Olson                      W 

Hegewisch,    111. 

3 

1898 

May     10—  Freddie  Green               W 

Sioux  Falls,  S.  D. 

7 

May     11—  Soldier    Williams          K 

Sioux  Falls,  S.  D. 

8 

1899 

Jan.        1  —  Eddie    Herman              D 

Hegewisch,  111. 

6 

Apr.       6  —  Eddie  Penny                   K 

Chicago,  111. 

1 

May       3—  Bull  Winters                  K 

Chicago 

1 

June      1  —  Unkno'n(  John  Smith)   K 

Chicago 

2 

1900 

July       4  —  Feathers  Vernon      No  DC 

West   Pullman 

6 

Aug.     30  —  Charles   Dougherty        K 

Chicago 

] 

Sept.     14  —  Joe  Hedmark                 L 

Chicago 

6 

Sept.     21  —  Harry    Griffin               W 

Chicago 

6 

Oct.        8—  Young   Bay                   W 

Chicago 

6 

Nov.      2—  Clarence  Class               D 

Chicago 

6 

Nov.     12—  Jack  Readle                Exb. 

Chicago 

3 

Nov.     12  —  Joe  Curtain                  Exb. 

Chicago 

3 

Nov.     15—  Black  Griffo                   K 

Chicago 

3 

Nov.     22—  Ed  Burley                        K 

Chicago 

5 

Dec.       1—  Pete  Boyle                    L-F 

Chicago 

4 

Dec,       1  —  Danny  McMahon           D 

Chicago 

4 

Dec.       7—  Joe   Percente               W-F 

Chicago 

2 

Dec.       8—  Jack   Martin                  W 

Chicago 

6 

1901 

Mar.     17—  Black  Griffo                   K 

Chicago 

3 

Apr.      19—  Mickey  Riley   '               L 

Milwaukee 

6 

16 


BATTLING    NELSON 


17 


1901  NAME 

May       3 — Charles  Berry 

May  18 — Harry  Fails 

May  24 — .Harry  Fails 

Nov.  10— Billy  Heck 

Nov.  15 — Joe   Percente 

Nov.  29— Eddie    Santry 
Dec.       2— Joe  Percente 

Dec.  16— Mike  Walsh 

Dec.  17— Charles    Berry 

1902 

Jan.  13 — Frank  Colifer 

Jan.  21— Charles  Berry 

Mar.  13 — Joe  Percente 

Mar.  17— Kid  Ryan 

Mar.  21 — Cyclone   Johnny 

Thompson 
Apr.       5 — William  Rosser 

(2  seconds) 

Apr.  12 — Danny   McMahon 

May  17 — Pudden  Burns 

June  14— Billy  Hurley 
Dec.       2 — Elmer  Mayfield 

Dec.  26— Christy  Williams 


3 — Geo.   Brownfield 

6 — Sammy  Maxwell 
17 — Adam  Ryan 

5 — Jack   Robinson 
24 — Cyclone   Johnny 

Thompson 
22— Stockings   Kelly 
16 — Young   Scotty 
19— Mickey  Riley 
20— Larry  McDonald 
27— Clarence  English 
15 — 'Mickey  Riley 

(Police) 

23— Mickey  Riley 
26— Eddie  Sterns 

3— Dare  Devil  Tildon 

(Police) 

16 — Charles  Neary 
10 — George  Memsic 
28 — Clarence   English 


RESULT 

PLACE 

ROUNDS 

D 

Milwaukee 

6 

No  DC 

Omro,  Wis. 

6 

D 

Rhinelander,    Wis. 

10 

No  DC 

West  Pullman 

4 

L 

Milwaukee 

6 

L 

Chicago 

6 

'     D 

Milwaukee 

6 

K 

Chicago 

6 

L 

Milwaukee 

6 

K 

West  Pullman 

5 

L 

Fon  du  lac 

8 

W 

Oshkosh,  Wis. 

8 

K 

Chicago 

5 

W 

Chicago 

6. 

K 

Harvey,  111. 

1 

D 

West    Pullman,    111 

6 

W 

Hegewisch,  111. 

6 

D 

Hammond,  Ind. 

6 

W 

Hot    Springs,    Ark 

.       10 

K 

Hot    Springs,    Ark 

17 

Oct. 
Nov. 
Dec. 

1904 

Jan.       16 — Art  Simms 
Feb.        5— Jack  O'Neill 


No  DC  Hot  Springs,  Ark.  4 

K  Hot  Springs,  Ark.  11 

D  Little  Rock,  Ark.  15 

No  DC  Hot   Springs,   Ark.  6 

W  Milwaukee  6 

K  Milwaukee  4 

W  Fond  du  lac,  Wis.  8 

D  Milwaukee,  Wis.  6 

K  Harvey,   111.  4 

D  Kansas  City,  Mo.  15 

No  DC  Ashland,   Wis.  11 

D  Hurley,  Wis.  15 

L  Michigan   City,   Ind.  9 

No  DC  Chicago,    111.  2 

L  Milwaukee  6 

W  Milwaukee  6 

W  St  Joe,  Mo.  15 

K  Milwaukee  3 

W  Milwaukee  6 


18 


BATTLING   NELSON 


1904  NAME 

Apr.       6 — Spider    Welsh 

Apr.  12 — Tommy  Markham 

May  20— Martin  Canole 

July  29 — Eddie    Hanlon 
Sept.      5 — Aurelia  Herrera 

Nov.  29 — Young  Corbett 

Dec.  20 — Jimmy  Britt 

1905 

Feb.  28— Young  Corbett 

May  22— Abe  Attell 
June       2 — Kid   Sullivan 
June       6— Jack  O'Neill 
Sept.      9— JIMMY  BRITT 

1906 

Mar.  14 — Terry  McGovern 

Aug.  13— Willard    Bean 
Sept.      3 — Joe   Cans 

1907 

July  31— Jimmy    Britt 

Oct.  19 — Tom    Freebury 

Oct.  23— Charles  Berry 

Oct.  26— Mark    Nelson 

1908 

Jan.  13— Jack  Clifford 
Feb.       4— Rudolph  Unholz 
Mar.      3 — Jimmy  Britt 

Mar.  31— Abe  Attell 

May  28— Jack  Grace 
July       4— JOE  CANS 
July       5— Red    Cornett 
Sept.      1— Jeff   Perry 
Sept.      9— JOE  CANS 

Sept.  27— Joe  Galligan 


RESULT          PLACE  BOUNDS 

K      Salt  Lake  City,  Utah  16 

Exb.    Eureka,  Utah  3 

K      San  Francisco  18 

K      San  Francisco  19 

W      Butte  20 

K      San  Francisco  10 

L      San  Francisco  20 

K  San  Francisco  9 

No  DC  Philadelphia  6 

D  Baltimore  6 

No  DC  Philadelphia  6 

K      Colma,    Cal.  18 

No  DC   Philadelphia  6 

Exb.    Salt  Lake  City,  Utah        3 

L-F?  Goldfield,   Nev.  42 

L  San  Francisco  20 
Exb.  Red  Lodge,  Mont.  4 
Exb.  Billings,  Mont.  4 

Exb.    Minot,  N.  D.  4 

K    "Ogden,  Utah  5 

No  DC  Los  Angeles,  Cal.  10 

No  DC  Los  Angeles,  Cal.  10 

D      San  Francisco  15 

Exb.    Seattle,  Wash.  3 

K      Col  ma,   Cal.  17 

Exb.      Livermore,  Cal.  4 

Exb.    U.S.S.Ohio,  S.F.,  Cal.    3 

K      COLMA,   CAL.  21 

Exb.    Chicago  3 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  Battler  Meets  Ole  Olson,  Then  Pride 
of  Hegewisch. 


THEY  FOUGHT  AT   THE   NOW   FAMOUS    WHITE 
HOUSE  CLUB,  ON  JUNE  5th,  1897. 

It  was  the  early  taste  of  heavy,  hard  outdoor  work 
which  served  to  build  up  and  make  a  strong,  sturdy  "kid" 
of  me.  Though  not  very  tall,  I  was  stockily  built  for  a 
youngster,  and  when  I  quit  the  Hammond  Company  I 
was  really  doing  a  man's  work. 

In  1897  I  engaged  in  one  bout  at  home  with  Ole 
Olson,  and  of  course  I  won  it.  The  Swede  at  the  time  had 
gained  the  reputation  in  Hegewisch  and  vicinity  as  being 
the  best  kid  scrapper  going.  We  had  a  boy's  athletic 
club  in  Hegewisch  called  the  White  House  Club,  which 
was  organized  immediately  after  my  decisive  victory  over 
Wallace's  Unknown.  Ole  Olson  questioned  my  right  to 
pose  as  the  champion  of  Hegewisch,  and  a  battle  was 
arranged  between  us. 

The  town  was,  as  it  is  now,  populated  mostly  by 
Swedes  and  Danes,  and  there  were  about  an  equal  num- 
ber of  each  residing  there  at  the  time  of  the  fight.  The 
Swedes  naturally  took  Olson's  part,  and,  of  course,  the 
sterling  Danes  all  supported  me.  We  fought  for  a  purse 
of  $3,  my  end  being  put  up  by  the  club  members.  It  was 
on  a  Sunday  afternoon,  and  I  will  never  forget  the  day. 
The  rivalry  of  the  two  factions  was  intense,  and  many 
good-sized  bets  were  made  on  the  affair. 

OLSON    GETS    A    LICKING. 

Olson,  like  the  Unknown,  had  it  on  me  both  in  height, 
reach  and  weight,  but,  despite  this,  I  felt  confident  I  could 
best  him  that  day. 

19 


20  BATTLING   NELSON 

In  the  opening  round  Olson  went  after  me  to  make 
short  work  of  it,  and  I  certainly  had  to  fight  good  and 
hard  to  stall  off  his  fierce  rushes  and  heavy  infighting. 
At  the  conclusion  of  this  round  it  was  pretty  even  at  that. 
Again  in  the  second  round  he  continued  to  carry  the  fight 
to  me,  and  at  times  had  me  coverir/g  up  to  avoid  punish- 
ment. During  these  hard  mix-ups,  however,  I  was  send- 
ing in  telling  left  upper-cuts,  which  were,  as  far  as  I 
could  see,  fast  getting  Ole's  goat. 

I  was  the  aggressor  before  the  second  round  was  up, 
and  when  the  bell  tingled  calling  us  up  for  the  third  and 
final  round  I  was  on  top  of  my  opponent  in  a  jiffy.  I 
handed  him  a  series  of  heavy  swings  and  short-arm  jolts 
at  close  quarters  which  knocked  all  the  fight  out  of  him. 

I  knocked  him  down  a  few  times,  and  when  he  came 
in  at  me  I  handed  over  a  straight  left  which  floored  -him. 
He  cried  "enough." 

SWEDES  AND  DANES  IN  BATTLE  ROYAL. 

My  stock  immediately  soared  to  the  skies.  During  the 
excitement  after  the  knockout  the  Swedes,  angered  over 
the  defeat  of  their  pride,  started  a  war  of  extermination 
with  us  Danes.  Then  and  there  the  trouble  began  and 
some  fun  as  well.  We  lined  up  in  the  White  House  yard 
and  the  two  factions  charged  each  other,  each  side  willing 
to  go  "the  derby,"  or  Battler's  route,  or  die.  It  was  the 
dandiest  battle  royal  I  ever  took  part  in  and  there  was 
more  good  old-fashioned  excitement  in  Hegewisch  that 
day  than  has  ever  been  since.  I  was  triumphantly  carried 
off  the  battlefield  to  my  home  by  my  admirers,  and  many 
times  since,  when  over-enthusiastic  fight  fans  have  loaded 
me  on  their  shoulders  and-  carried  me  out  of  the  ring, 
have  I  recalled  pleasantly  that  memorrble  afternoon  in 
Hegewisch  of  long,  long  ago.  I  need  not  add  that  we 
Danes  won  the  free-for-all  fight. 

After  this  battle  I  had  an  argument  at  home  because 
of  the  affair,  and  I  ran  away  from  home. 

"Going  away,  ma,  to  seek  my  fortune,"  was  the  childish 


BATTLING    NELSON 


21 


note  which  I  mailed  to  ma  from  Hegewisch  on  the  even- 
ing of  June  15.  1897.  Ma  still  has  this  letter,  and  she 
is  a  witness  to  the  fact  that  "I  made  good"  my  childish 
brag. 

I  headed  northward,  beating  my  way  in  slow  stages 
and  working  at  odd  jobs.  I  landed  in  Huron,  S.  Dak., 
about  the  middle  part  of  July,  a  sadder  and  much  wiser 
little  lad.  My  two  great  victories,  as  I  called  them,  over 
the  Unknown  and  the  champion  of  Hegewisch,  Olson, 
had  caused  the  fighting  bee  to  get  busy  in  my  bonnet.  I 
secured  a  position  in  Kimmel  &  Edler's  meat  market  in 
Huron  at  $15  per  month,  and  worked  steadily  until 
Christmas  Day.  I  demanded  $20  a  month,  and  when  it 
was  refused  me  I  quit. 

BAT    BECOMES    A    COWBOY. 

Here  I  met  up  with  a  cowboy  and  he  took  me  out  to 
one  of  the  big  ranches  close  by,  where  I  became  a  regular 
cowboy.  Another  wild  ambition 
of  mine  had  been  gratified.  I 
had  read  novels  of  Buffalo  Bill 
and  other  famous  men  of  the 
plains,  and  greatly  admired 
their  personalities  and  records. 
So  here  I  was  astride  a  horse 
now  and  actually  herding  cattle. 
When  winter  set  in  I  jumped 
the  "chaps"  and  tossed  the  lariat 
aside  and  hiked  over  to  Miller, 
S.  Dak.  Here  I  secured  a  job 
as  waiter  in  the  Vanderbilt  hotel 
owned  by  B.  F.  Torrey. 

There  was  a  pretty  nice  box- 
ing club  at  Sioux  Falls,  S.  Dak., 
at  the  time  and  fights  were  be- 
ing held  over  there  weekly. 
That  clinging  ambition  to  be- 
come a  great  boxer  wouldn't  down  in  me  and  early  in 
May  I  jumped  over  to  the  Falls. 


BATTLING   NELSON 


Despite  the  many  hardships  encountered  since  leaving- 
home  I  was  determined  to  become  "A  Boxer  of  World 
Renown." 

I  called  on  the  manager  of  the  club  and  asked  him  to 
be  good  enough  to  bill  me  for  a  bout.  He  looked  me 
over  Critically,  felt  my  arms,  looked  into  my  eyes,  and 
then  said.  "Well,  Kid,  I'll  take  a  chance  with  you.  Be 
around  here  next  Saturday  night  and  I'll  put  you  on  with 
the  famous  lightweight,  Freddie  Green.  If  you  manage 
to  make  good,  why,  I'll  give  you  a  chance  the  next  day 
(Sunday)  to  fight  Soldier  Williams.  This  latter  battle 
to  take  place  at  our  annual  picnic  and  field  day." 

WINS  FIGHT   IN   SIOUX   FALLS. 

I  was  Johnny  on  the  spot  Saturday  evening,  all  beam- 
ing with  smiles  over  my  good  fortune  and  serenely  con- 
fident. I  wore,  for  the  first  time 
in  my  life,  regulation  fighting 
shoes  and  had  purchased  a  pair 
of  pretty  green  trunks.  (I  have 
worn  that  lucky  color  ever  since.) 
In  fact,  I  was  togged  up  like  a 
real  fighter,  eveh  though  I  was 
an  unknown  and  from  a  place 
called  Hegewisch,  111. 

"H  e  g  e  w  i  s  c  h,  Illinois !"  ex- 
claimed the  Master  of  Cere- 
monies. "Where  in  the  world  is 
that  located?" 

"Battling  Nelson !  Whew! 
what  a  good  fighting  name!  A 
regular  Admiral  Nelson,  eh?" 

"I'm  just  starting  out,  sir,"     I 
answered  in  all  humility.   "I  have 
fought   two   battles   to   date   and 
win    both— that's  all." 

It's  a  funny  thing,  indeed,  about  this  Hegewisch  bus- 
iness. I  made  up  my  mind  when  I  left  home  that  if  ever 


have    managed    to 


BATTLING   NELSON  23 

I  should  be  fortunate  enough  to  become  famous  as  a 
boxer  I  would  certainly  not  go  back  on  my  old  town, 
Hegewisch. 

The  wheel  of  fortune  turned  in  my  favor,  and  of 
course,  as  the  entire  world  knows,  wherever  you  see  the 
name  of  Battling  Nelson  so  you  will  see  the  name  Hege- 
wisch, Illinois. 

HERE  ARE  STATISTICS  SHOWING  AMOUNT  OF 
MONEY  THAT  THE  BATTLER  RECEIVED  IN  EACH 
FIGHT  FROM  THE  FIRST,  UP  TO  AND  INCLUDING 
THE  GREAT  CANS  FIGHT  (SEPT.  9,  1908). 

1896  OPPONENT  MONEY  RECEIVED 

Sept.      3  1— Wallace's    Unknown    $  1.00  (Robbed) 

1897 

June       5  2— Ole    Olson    3.00 

1898 

May      10  3 — Freddie    Green       7.50 

May      11  4— Soldier    Williams    10.00 


$21.50 
1899 

Jan.        1      5— Eddie    Herman    10.00 

Apr.        6      6— Eddie    Penny    10.00 

May        3      7— Bull    Winters    2.50 

June       1      8 — Unknown    (John   Smith)    2.50 


1900  25.00 

July  4     9 — Feathers  Vernon   5.00 

Aug.  30    10— Charles  Dougherty   15.00 

Sept.  14    11— Joe  Hedmark 15.00 

Sept.  21    12— Harry   Griffin    35.00 

Oct.  8    13— Young   Bay    10.00 

Nov.  2    14 — Clarence    Class     7.50 

Nov.  12    15— Jack   Readle    Benefit 

Nov.  12    16— Joe    Curtain    Benefit 

Nov.  15    17— Black   Griffo    15.00 

Nov.  22    18— Ed    Burley     10.00 

Dec.  1    19— Pete    Boyle    25.00 

Dec.  1    20— Danny   McMahon    5.00 

Dec.  7    21— Joe    Percente    15.00 

Dec.  8    22— Jack    Martin     25.00 


182.50 


24 


BATTLING   NELSON 


1901  OPPONENT  MONEY.  RECEIVED 

Mar.  17    23— Black    Griffo     15.00 

Apr.  19    24 — Mickey    Riley    109.23 

May  3    25— Charles    Berry    50.00 

May  18    26— Harry    Fails    5.00 

May  24    27— Harry    Fails    150.00 

Nov.  '10    28— Billy    Heck    5.00 

Nov.  15    29— Joe    Percente    35.00 

Nov.  29    30 — Eddie    Santry    50.00 

Dec.  2    31— Joe    Percente    62.50 

Dec.  16    32— Mike    Walsh     75.00 

Oec.  17    33— Charles    Berry    50.00 

606.73 
1902 

Jan.  13    34— Frank    Colifer    50.00 

Jan.  21    35 — Charles    Berry    75.00 

Mar.  13    36— Joe    Percente    125.00 

Mar.  17    37— Kid    Ryan    75.00 

Mar.  21  38 — Cyclone    Johnny    Thompson..  100.00 

Apr.  5    39— William    Rosser     50.00 

Apr.  12    40 — Danny    McMahon    50.00 

May  17    41— Pudden    Burns    75.00 

June  14    12— Billy  Hurley    50.00 

Dec.  2    43— Elmer   Mayfield    35.00 

Dec.  26    44— Christy    Williams    39.50 

724.50 

1903 

Jan,.  3    45 — George  Brownfield    5.00 

Jan.  6    46— Sammy    Maxwell     65.00 

Mar.  17    47— Adam    Ryan    350.00 

Apr.  5    48 — Jack   Robinson    5.00 

Apr.  24  49 — Cyclone    Johnny    Thompson..  100.00 

May  22    50— Stockings  Kelly   125.00 

June  16    51— Young    Scotty    125.00 

June  19    52 — Mickey    Riley    75.00 

June  20   53— Larry    McDonald    50.00 

June  27    54— Clarence    English     250.00 

July  15    55— Mickey   Riley    150.00 

July  23    56— Mickey   Riley    150.00 

Aug.  26    57— Eddie    Stearns    50.00 

Sept.  3    58— Dare    Devil    Tildon 7.50 

Oct.  16    59— Charles    Neary    100.00 

Nov.  10    60 — George  Memsic    200.00 

Dec.  28    61— Clarence    English    500.00 

2,307.50 


BATTLING   NELSON 


25 


1904  OPPONENT  MONEY  RECEIVED 

Jan.  16  62— Art    Simms    200.00 

Feb.  5  63— Jack   O'Neill    200.00 

Apr.  6  64— Spider    Welsh     498.00 

Apr.  12  65 — Tommy    Markham     5.00 

May  20  66— Martin    Canole    750.00 

July  29  67— Eddie    Hanlon    1,250.00 

Sept.  5  68— Aurelia    Herrera    2,100.00 

Nov.  29  69— Young    Corbett     2,700.00 

Dec.  20  70— Jimmy    Britt    5,600.00 

13,303.00 

1905 

Feb.      28  71— Young    Corbett    3,500.00 

May      22   72— Abe    Attell     1,500.00 

June       2   73— Kid    Sullivan     1,000.00 

June       6   74— Jack    O'Neill     750.00 

Sept.       9   75— Jimmy   Britt    18,841.00 

25,591.00 
1906 

Mar.      14  76— Terry    McGovern    11,771.50 

Aug.      13   77— Willard   Bean    500.00 

Sept.       3   78— Joe    Cans     23,000.00 

35,271.50 
1907 

July      31    79— Jimmy    Britt     ." 9,400.00 

Oct.      19   80— Tom   Freebury    450.00 

Oct.      23    81— Charles    Berry    400.00 

Oct.      26   82 — Mark    Nelson 250.00 

10,500.00 
1908 

Jan.       13    83— Jack    Clifford    2,236.00 

Feb.        4   84— Rudolph    Unholz    3,085.52 

Mar.       3   85— Jimmy    Britt     2,400.25 

Mar.      31   86— Abe    Attell     2,700.80 

May      28   87 — Jack   Grace    Showing 

July'        4   88— Joe   Cans    10,800.00 

July        5    89— Red    Cornett     191.00 

Sept.       1   90— Jeff    Perry    Benefit 

Sept.       9  91— Joe   Cans    11,552.00 

Sept.     27   92— Joe    Galligan     Showing 

$  32,965.57 
My  End  of  Purses  Received  for  Twelve 

Years'    Fighting $121,486.80 


CHAPTER  III. 

Bat's  Third  Battle,  Fought  May  10,  1898, 
at  Sioux  Falls,  S.  D. 


IN  WHICH  HE  DEFEATED  FREDDIE  GREEN, 
KNOCKING  HIM  OUT  IN  7  ROUNDS. 

PURSE,  $7.50. 

I  was  up  against  a  real  classy  fighter  in  Freddie  Green. 
He  had  been  bucking  the  padded  arena  for  several  years 
and  was  then  known  as  "the  Champion  of  the  Dakotas." 
He  was  a  shifty,  clever  fellow,  raw  of  bone  and  had  a 
reach  like  a  gorilla.  I  entered  the  arena,  unknown  and 
unannounced,  as  it  were.  I  didn't  even  have  a  trainer. 

From  the  tap  of  the  gong  in  the  first  round  to  its 
finish  Green  danced  around  me  like  a  grasshopper,  peck- 
ing bad  jabs  into  my  face  repeatedly,  and  then  dancing 
out  of  harm's  way.  My  style  then  was  slow  and  awk- 
ward, but  I  felt  from  the  start  that  he  couldn't  knock  me 
out,  so  as  the  fight  progressed  I  became  confident.  He 
drew  first  blood  in  the  fourth  round.  It  was  the  first 
time  in  my  short  career  that  I  had  suffered  such  humilia- 
tion and  you  can  bet  I  was  angry.  I  grew  a  bit  wild  and 
commenced  to  carry  the  fight  to  him.  I  worked  him  into 
a  clinch  and  almost  put  him  out.  This  round  he  was 
overly  cautious  and  kept  away  from  me. 

CLEVERNESS  A    NOVELTY   TO   BAT. 

It  was  a  new  experience  for  me,  this  slapping  and 
getting  away  business  of  Green.  I  was  really  tiring,  as 
I  could  not  catch  up  with  him  at  all.  I  changed  my  tac- 
tics then  and  laid  back  a  while.  The  crowd,  under  the 
impression  that  I  was  giving  in,  began  to  cry  frantically 
to  Green  to  rush  in  and  finish  me. 

This  was  in  the  sixth  round  of  the  battle.    Green  was 

26 


BATTLING   NELSON  27 

a  game  sort  of  a  fellow  and  right  there  I  didn't  doubt 
the  stories  told  about  his  many  successful  battles  and 
many  knockouts.  He  tried  to  exchange  blows  with  me. 
and  there's  where  he  made  the  same  mistake  as  did  Wal- 
lace's Terrible  Unknown,  as  well  as  Ole  Olson.  Ah! 
how  I  did  tickle  his  ribs  and  crack  my  left  into  his  jaw 
during  that  round. 

I  was  warming  up  to  the  real  fighter's  work  then.  At 
the  end  of  the  round  I  had  the  champion  hanging  on  to 
me,  tired  and  badly  battered,  though  still  in  the  ring. 

He  came  up  at  the  call  of  time  in  ihe  seventh  round 
in  an  extremely  cautious  manner,  not  making  the  slightest 
move  to  follow  up  his  rushing  tactics  of  the  early  rounds. 

WINS   CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  DAKOTAS. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  assumed  the  aggressive,  and 
when  the  old  bell  tapped  I  was  out  of  my  corner  in  a 
jiffy  and  was  on  him  like  a  tiger  cat.  I  cut  out  a  dizzy 
pace  for  Freddie,  which  I  don't  think  he  will  ever  forget, 
if  he  is  still  on  earth — and  I  hope  he  is. 

I  boxed  and  cuffed  him  all  about  the  ring  until  he  was 
groggy.  Then  I  stepped  back  and  handed  him  a  left 
hook  full  on  the  jaw.  They  carried  him  out  of  the  ring 
unconscious.  I  was  thereupon  proclaimed  the  Champion 
of  the  Dakotas  before  I  had  shed  my  boxing  gloves.  My 
titles  so  far  acquired  were:  Champion  of  Hegewisch, 
Champion  of  Wallace's  Circus  and  Champion  of  the 
Dakotas. 

Pretty  good,  boys,  for  a  kid  who  had  only  fought  three 
battles.  The  purse  for  the  fight  amounted  to  $7.50, 
which  was  collected  from  the  ringside  in  hats.  As  I  had 
been  doing  all  along,  I  sent  half  of  the  purse  back  to 
mother  at  Hegewisch,  111. 

FIGHTS    SOLDIER    WILLIAMS. 

I  was,  of  course,  the  town  topic  of  Sioux  Falls  that 
evening  and  the  next  morning.  The  manager  of  the 
club  came  around  to  see  me  early  and  made  good  his 


28  BATTLING   NELSON 

promise  to  fight  me  against  the  noted  Soldier  Williams 
that  afternoon.  He  raised  the  purse  to  $10,  which  I 
readily  accepted.  Soldier  Williams  was  no  spring  chicken 
at  the  game.  He  was  a  successful  fighter  and  had  a 
string  of  victories  to  his  credit  up  to  the  time  he  met  me. 

We  met  in  the  open  ring  which  was  pitched  on  the 
picnic  grounds  of  the  fight  club.  You  can  bet  I  was  a 
bit  stiff  and  tired  after  my  night's  battle,  but  was  out  to 
win  myself  some  reputation  and  as  a  result  was  chuck 
full  of  ginger.  Williams  was  not  a  fancy  boxer,  but  a 
rough,  determined  strong  fellow  like  myself. 

Gee !  but  we  certainly  busted  the  atmosphere  with  wild 
punches  right  from  the  jump.  He  came  at  me  in  the 
first  round  determined  to  finish  me  right  then  and  there 
and,  of  course,  knock  my  reputation  and  ambition  as  a 
kid  champion  into  smithereens.  I,  of  course,  loved  just 
that  sort  of  game.  He  was  there  with  the  aggressiveness 
and  stamina,  and  in  him  I  found  the  toughest  fellow 
whom  I  had  met  to  date. 

He  really  had  the  edge  on  me  up  to  the  sixth  round 
of  the  battle,  just  as  Green  had  had  the  night  before.  His 
condition,  however,  was  beginning  to  tell  on  him,  and  I 
was  watching  for  just  such  signs  of  weariness. 

THE    SOLDIER    IS    BEATEN. 

In  the  seventh  round  I  reached  out  and  planted  my 
right  deep  into  his  wind  in  order  to  see  how  he  would 
stand  the  gaff.  Then  I  broke  ground  to  discover  if  he 
was  game  enough  to  come  back  again  and  counter. 

Instead  he  retreated,  muttering  something  under  his 
breath. 

"Ha !  ha !"  said  I,  handing  over  a  left  hook  on  the  jaw. 
"So  you're  quitting,  are  you?" 

Biff!  came  another  from  my  right,  and  then  I  set  sail 
and  fairly  smothered  him  with  uppercuts,  full  swings  and 
body  blows. 

The  gong  in  this  round  saved  him.  He  came  back  all 
out  in  the  eighth,  which  proved  to  be  the  final  round.  I 


BATTLING   NELSON 


29 


again  carried  the  fight  to  him,  and  in  a  few  seconds  had 
him  stretched  out  on  the  floor,  more  dead  than  alive. 

He  did  manage  to  get  to  his  feet,  but  I  wheeled  and 
then  planted  my  right  hard  on  his  wind,  and  over  he  went 
for  the  count. 

Down  went  Soldier  Williams,  the  champion  of  the 
army. 


RETURNS  HOME  AND  FIGHTS  DRAW. 

After  defeating  several  Northern  champions  I  de- 
cided to  return  home  and  secure,  if  possible,  a  few  good 
bouts  in  the  neighborhood  of  Chicago.  Eddie  Herman, 
another  Hegewisch  product,  had  been  cleaning  up  every 
fighter  in  the  vicinity  when  I  arrived  and  my  admirers  in 
Chicago  and  at  home  prevailed  upon  me  to  go  after  him. 
My  great  success  in  the  North  had  reached  home  before 
me,  and  I  was  greeted  as  the  coming  champion. 

I  was  received  at  home  with  open  arms  by  father  and 
mother  and  settled  down  studying  faithfully  and  "train- 


30  BATTLING   NELSON 

ing"  secretly  at  night  or  whenever  the  opportunity  pre- 
sented itself.  I  could  see  nothing  then  but  a  ring  career 
for  the  Battler. 

On  New  Year's  Day,  Jan  1st,  1899,  I  began  my  pro- 
fessional career  as  a  boxer  in  earnest.  On  this  date  I 
tied  up  with  Eddie  Herman  at  Hegewisch,  going  to  a  six 
round  draw  with  him.  My  battle  had  caused  so  much 
talk  at  home  and  school  that  I  immediately  decided  to 
cease  my  studies,  and  go  after  a  reputation  as  a  boxer. 
I  continued  to  battle  around  Chicago  with  varying  success 
until  May  I7th,  1902.  Then  I  made  my  historic  march 
into  the  hilly  state  of  Arkansas  where  I  gained  my  first 
real  reputation  as  a  coming  fighter. 

It  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  go  into  further  details  as 
to  what  happened  after  as  it  is  contained  in  detail  in  other 
chapters  of  the  book. 

Many  persons  and  critics  are  of  the  opinion  that  the 
name  BATTLING  is  a  nickname  of  mine.  Such  is  not  the 
case.  It  was  handed  me  when  I  was  born,  the  selection 
of  the  splendid  name  falling  to  my  Daddy.  I  was  such 
a  scrappy,  lusty  lunged,  busy  child  that  he  decided  that 
there  was  but  one  name  for  me  "De  Battler"  or  Battling. 
I  have  used  the  name  to  good  advantage  ever  since,  of 
course.  Matthew  was  tacked  on  by  my  mother.  She 
probably  named  me  after  the  famous  Father  Matthew 
founder  of  the  well  known  temperance  order.  True  to 
this  good  name  I  have  followed  the  principles  of  this  man 
all  my  life.  I  don't  drink  intoxicants,  don't  chew  tobacco, 
nor  do  I  smoke.  The  possessing  of  these  virtues  is  not 
much  to  brag  about  because  they  were  no  doubt  born 
and  bred  in  me,  that's  all.  After  that  it  required  but  a 
good  strong  will  power  to  offset  these  temptations. 

I  have  six  brothers  and  one  sister.  Albert  is  a 
machinist ;  Henry  is  a  blacksmith ;  Johnny  is  a  moulder ; 
Charlie  a  Junior  at  the  University  of  California,  and  is 
studying  to  became  an  M.  D.,  but  I  wouldn't  be  surprised 
if  he  should  turn  out  to  be  a  preacher.  Arthur  is  a  motor- 
cycle racer  and  once  rode  a  mile  and  a  quarter  in  a 


BATTLING   NELSON 


31 


minute.  My  younger  brother  Harry  is  the  smartest  kid 
of  them  all,  at  present  he  is  going  to  the  Boys  School  at 
Quincy.  111.  He  is  inclined  to  be  scrappy,  and  is  already 
exhibiting  signs  of  following  my  footsteps.  My  only 
sister  Ida  is  living  with  the  folks  at  home,  Hegewisch, 
111.  My  father's  name  is  Nels  Nelson,  and  my  mother's 
name  is  Mary  Nelson. 

THE  CHAMPION   RETURNS  TO   HEGEWISCH. 

Upon  my  arrival  I  lost  no  time  in  getting  a  match  with 
Herman  who  agreed  to  fight  me  on  my  own  doormat. 
Yes,  and  he  certainly  made  me  go  some  during  the  six 
rounds  fought.  He  was  fast  on  his  feet,  shifty  on  the 
order  of  Abe  Attell,  and  for  the  first  three  rounds  I 
could  not  get  inside  his  guard.  He  refused  to  mix  things 


with  me,  and  as  the  scrap  was  for  points  the  fourth 
round  opened  with  his  having  the  edge  because  of  his 
cleverness.  He  tired  in  the  fourth  after  I  had  reached 
him  a  few  times,  and  then  the  fun  began.  I  forced  the 
fighting,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  this  round  poor  Eddie 
was  a  sight.  He  stalled  during  the  first  half  of  the  fifth, 


32  BATTLING   NELSON 

but  I  got  him  and  broke  down  his  defense  prettily.  In 
the  final  round  I  beat  him  badly.  The  referee,  however, 
gave  him  a  shade  when  he  held  up  both  our  hands  for  a 
draw  decision.  I  had  done  well,  his  friends  said,  even 
to  stand  him  off  that  long.  I  say  to  this  day  that  I  de- 
feated him  in  this  bout.  The  purse  in  this  fight  was  $10. 

*************************** 

*  * 

*  HOW    THE    WORLD'S    LIGHTWEIGHT    CHAM-      * 

*  * 

*  PION  LOOKS  AFTER  HAVING  A  BOUT  WITH      * 

*  * 

*  THE  TAPE  MEASURE.  HIS  EXACT  MEASURE-   * 

*  * 

*  MENTS   HERE  GIVEN   CORRECTLY   FOR   THE      * 

*  * 

*  FIRST  TIME.  TAKEN  BY  D.  D.  CROWLEY,  M.  D,      * 

*  * 

*  OAKLAND,   CALIFORNIA,  JULY  27,  1908.  * 

*  * 


HEIGHT   5  ft.  1l/2  in. 

WEIGHT 130  to  133     (Trained) 

WEIGHT    140  to  145     (Normal) 

REACH  67^  in. 

NECK   15  in. 

CHEST,  NORMAL  34  in. 

CHEST,   EXPANDED    39J/2  in. 

WAIST     27  in. 

BICEPS    10l/2  in. 

BICEPS,    CONTRACTED    12  in. 

WRIST     6$4  in. 

FOREARM  10  in. 

LENGTH  OF  ARM 26  in. 

THIGH    19  in. 

CALF    .  14  in. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Defeats  The  Noted  Eddie  Penny  in  One 
Round  in  Chicago,  April  6,  1899. 


FIGHT  WAS  RESULT  OF  AN  OLD  GRUDGE. 

Eddie  Penny  was  doing  an  all  star  stunt  about  Chicago, 
and  he  was  not  slow  to  challenge  me  for  battle.  We 
fought  on  the  South  Side  on  April  6,  1899.  Penny  had 
defeated  a  number  of  shifty  fellows,  and  was,  as  was 
usually  the  case  in  those  days,  a  top-heavy  favorite  over 
me  ii/the  betting.  I  fixed  Penny's  championship  aspira- 
tions in  just  one  round,  which  was  perioded  with  great 
slugging — on  my  part — mostly. 

In  fact,  Penny  hardly  touched  me  with  one  good  punch 
during  the  short  mix-up,  from  the  call  of  time  up  to  the 
point  where  I  reached  out  and  cracked  him  into  uncon- 
sciousness. After  this  clean  cut  victory  over  such  a  big 
Chicago  favorite  things  began  to  break  a  bit  better  for 
me  and  the  managers  of  the  various  clubs  were  hot  on  my 
trail. 

THE    CHAMPION    HANDS    BULL    WINTERS    THE    SLEEP 
PRODUCER. 

Bull  Winters  wanted  some  of  my  game  after  I  had 
bested  his  chum  Penny.  I  obliged  him  on  May  3,  in 
Chicago.  Bull  came  at  me  in  the  opening  round  like  an 
uncaged  wild  cat  and  endeavoured  to  smother  me  with 
wild  swings  and  fierce  rushes.  I  don't  usually  do  much 
ground  breaking  in  my  fights,  but  the  Bull  would  cer- 
tainly have  pushed  me  off  the  stage  but  for  my  alert- 
ness in  side  stepping  him  and  backing  up.  He  handed 
me  just  about  12  seconds  of  wild  work  and  then  stopped 
short  He  was  tired  and  winded.  He  stood  panting  in 
the  middle  of  the  ring  inviting  a  lead  from  me.  Here  I 


34  BATTLING   NELSON 

got  busy.  I  walked  up  with  both  hands  down,  shifted  a 
bit,  and  batted  the  Bull  doubly  hard  on  the  chin  with  my 
right :  then  came  back  with  a  left  hook  which  went  hard 
into  his  wind. 

Down  he  went  "THEY  CARRIED  HIM  OUT  A 
BELLOWING." 

The  club  members  there  assembled  evidently  favored 
Winters,  and  when  the  hat  was  passed  around  they  only 
handed  me  a  paltry  $2.50. 

However,  since  that  evening  things  have  changed.  I 
have  met  a  dozen  or  more  of  this  same  crowd,  and  all 
have  informed  me  that  they  have  paid  as  high  as  $25.00 
a  seat  to  see  me  fight. 

EVERYTHING   COMES  TO   HIM   WHO   WAITS. 

After  defeating  Eddie  Penny  and  Bull  Winters  they 
tried  to  stack  me  up  against  a  ringer  in  Chicago,  who  will 
be  found  in  my  "morgue"  of  knockouts  under  the  name 
of  John  Smith,  the  Unknown. 

This  man  Smith  was  a  strong,  well  built,  tough  looking 
customer.  He  looked  the  part  of  a  ringer  all  over,  but 
I  feared  him  not.  I  was  out  to  fight  my  way  up  to  the 
top,  and  didn't  care  who  he  was,  or  what  he  had  done 
previously.  Well,  anyway,  the  plans  of  Smith  and  his 
followers  went  sadly  astray,  as  I  handed  the  fellow  the 
neatest  trimming  of  his  life.  The  bout  went  only  two 
rounds. 

This  victory  marked  the  ending  of  my  schedule  for 
the  season.  I  returned  to  Hegewisch,  and  took  up  my 
training  in  our  White  House  Club. 

LICKS    NEGRO    IN    PICNIC    FIGHT. 

Now  here's  what  I  call  a  funny  one.  After  I  had  taken 
a  long  rest  in  which  I  learned  how  to  shoot  big  game  on 
a  Western  hunting  trip,  I  decided  to  fight  a  negro.  His 
name  was  Feathers  Vernon,  and  I  met  him  at  a  picnic 
which  was  held  in  Dalton,  111.,  on  July  4,  1900.  I  did 
not  knock  him  out  for  the  reason  that  he  never  would  get 


BATTLING   NELSON  35 

close  enough  to  me  so  I  could  land  "my  sleep  producer." 
I  batted  him  all  around  the  ring,  however,  and  but  for 
the  "no  decision"  clause  would  have  won  easily. 

We  fought  for  the  sum  of  $10,  which  of  course,  was 
easily  divided.  When  the  president  of  the  club  was  in  the 
act  of  paying  us  off  a  fight  was  started  and  the  money 
was  knocked  out  of  his  hand.  I  managed  to  save  a  dollar 
and  a  half  of  it.  I  have  the  torn  dollar  still  in  my  pos- 
session. I  tried  to  pass  it,  but  it  was  too  badly  torn,  so 
I  kept  it  as  a  memento  of  my  first  mixup  with  a  "cullud 
person." 

I  have  fought  close  to  one  hundred  battles  so  far,  but 
I  had  more  fun  during  that  scrap  than  I  have  ever  had 
since.  I  licked  a  dozen  negroes  during  the  melee. 

HIS    FIRST    BIG    FIGHT. 

You  readers  can  easily  imagine  how  tickled  and  proud 
I  was  when  the  manager  of  the  old  Star  Theatre  Club 
in  Chicago  offered  me  the  chance  to  fight  before  a  regular 
club  and  the  big  sports.  This  first  big  battle  was  with 
Charles  Dougherty.  This  being  the  first  time  that  I  had 
appeared  before  thousands  of  people,  many  of  whom 
were  regular  fight  fans,  cheering  and  rooting  for  their 
favorites,  one  would  imagine  that  I  would  have  been 
nervous,  but  not  so  with  yours  truly. 

I  naturally  was  worked  up  to  a  high  pitch  of  excite- 
ment at  times,  but  I  never  lost  my  head.  As  soon  as  the 
fight  was  started  I  went  after  Dougherty  in  such  vicious 
style  he  imagined  a  Kansas  cyclone  had  broken  into  the 
building  and  taken  my  place  in  the  ring. 

I  fought  more  determined  than  ever,  as  I  knew  if  I 
was  lucky  enough  to  score  a  knockout  it  would  be  the 
means  of  securing  good  engagements  and  large  purses. 
I  knocked  him  out  in  the  first  round,  exact  time  being 
one  minute  and  ten  seconds.  From  this  time  on  I  got 
offers  galore,  a  whole  bundle  of  press  advertising  and 
was  kept  busy.  I  received  $15  for  putting  out  the  lights 


36  BATTLING   NELSON 

on  Dougherty,  which  was  handed  to  me  in  nickels  and 
dimes. 

BATTLER  GETS  GOOD  BEATING. 

Luck  was  not  so  good,  however,  for  it  was  right  after 
this  that  I  lost  my  first  battle. 

Joe  Hedmark  is  a  name  I  shall  never  forget.  We 
fought  at  the  Star  Theatre,  in  Chicago,  on  Sept.  14.  He 
licked  me  good  and  clean.  Hedmark  was  a  combination 
of  Terry  McGovern  and  Dal  Hawkins.  He  was  fast  as 
a  bullet,  strong,  shifty,  and  could  hand  out  a  punch  like 
Jeffries.  He  had  it  on  me  in  weight,  height  and  experi- 
ence. I  did  my  utmost  to  hold  my  unbroken  string  of 
victories.  I  fought  harder  that  night  than  in  all  my  pre- 
vious battles  put  together.  Poor  Joe,  I  wonder  where  he 
is  now?  I'd  like  to  see  him  and  shake  his  hand. 

In  the  opening  round  of  the  fight  he  stalled  me  into 
leading  at  him.  I  fell  for  it,  and  as  I  came  in  he  hung  a 
full  swing  under  my  chin,  which  boosted  me  off  my  feet 
and  sent  me  sprawling  to  the  floor.  That  was  something 
new  to  me,  and  you  should  have  seen  me  fight  back.  I 
went  after  him,  and  we  mixed  it  up  hard  for  the  balance 
of  the  round.  It  was  a  dandy  round,  and  I  think  I  had 
the  better  of  it.  However,  he  had  a  shade  in  the  second, 
third  and  fourth.  In  the  fifth  I  went  out  and  tried  to 
finish  him. 

HIS    RIBS    WERE    PELTED. 

I  carried  the  scrap  to  him,  but  as  he  had  it  on  me  in 
reach  he  simply  pelted  my  ribs  with  rights  and  lefts.  I 
gave  him  a  "good  mill  here,  but  he  had  me  very  tired  when 
the  bell  rang.  In  the  sixth  he  tried  his  utmost  to  put  me 
out,  but  could  not.  We  finished  in  the  centre  of  the 
ring,  battling  like  demons.  The  referee  gave  him  the 
fight  amid  great  cheering.  I  was  licked  thoroughly, 
fairly  and  squarely,  and  readily  admitted  it. 

I  received  $15  for  my  end  of  the  purse.  I  consider 
this  one  of  my  hardest  battles  experienced  during  my 
entire  fighting  career. 


BATTLING   NELSON 


37 


This  was  one  of  the  real  fights  that  each  and  every 
spectator  who  attended  will  never  forget.  It  was  very 
spectacular  in  many  respects.  I  was  floored  by  actual 
count  seventeen  times  in  the  six  rounds.  I  was  not  to 
be  denied  altogether,  as  I  put  Hedmark  down  five  times 
for  the  count  as  well. 

The  entire  audience  was  in  a  continual  uproar  from 
start  to  finish,  first  cheering  for  Hedmark,  and  then  for 
me.  This  was  due  to  our  con- 
tinual slugging  and  our  earnest  ef- 
forts to  knock  each  other  out.  The 
people  all*  over  the  city  of  Chi- 
cago will  talk  about  this  great  bat- 
tle even  to  this  clay. 

As  you  can  see,  fights  were  com- 
ing pretty  regular  now  for  the  boy 
from  Hegewisch,  and  I  was  losing 
no  opportunity  to  make  a  little 
coin. 

After  my  go  with  Hedmark  I 
signed  up  to  meet  Harry  Griffin, 
in  Chicago,  on  Sept.  21.  My  op- 
ponent gave  me  a  pretty  stiff  argu- 
ment of  it  ,up  to  the  forepart  of 
the  third  round,  when  I  got  to  him 
hard  and  forced  him  to  break 
ground  like  a  race  horse.  We 
boxed  before  a  splendid  crowd,  due  probably  to  the  fact 
that  Griffin  had  been  putting  away  a  number  of  good 
men,  and  the  fight  fans  naturally  expected  him  to  beat 
me  as  well.  I  fooled  them,  however,  and  won  the  de- 
cision easily  at  the  end  of  the  sixth  round. 

During  this  engagement  I  had  the  pleasure  of  knock- 
ing Griffin  off  his  feet  just  thirteen  times  by  actual  count- 
This  battle  was  almost  a  repetition  of  the  battle  I  had 
the  week  previous — only  I  was  on  the  winning  side. 
I  drew  down  thirty  five  dollars  in  cash,  and  you  can 


38 


BATTLING   NELSON 


just  bet  I  was  the  most  pleased  kid  in  Chicago  that  night. 
It  was  the  biggest  purse  received  by  me  up  to  that  time. 

On  October  8th  I  was  asked  to  meet  Young  Bay, 
another  shifty  135  pounder,  at  Billy  Gain's  Logan 
Square  Club.  I  went  the  six  rounds  with  him,  and  at 
its  conclusion  the  referee  awarded  me  the  decision. 

Young  Bay  was  at  that  time  unquestionably  one  of 
the  best  of  all  lightweights,  he  having  won  20  straight 
battles  up  to  our  go,  mostly  by  the  knock-out  route. 

Clarence  Class  was  anxious  to  try  conclusions  with  me 
after  I  had  defeated  Young  Bay,  and  I  obliged  him  on 
November  2.  Class  was  fast  on  his  feet,  and  throughout 
the  fight  forced  me  to  chase  him  around  the  ring  like 
a  six  day  pedestrian.  As  a  result  he  managed  to  stay  the 
full  six  rounds,  getting  a  draw  because  of  his  clever  foot- 
work and  scientific  blocking.  I  did  however,  punish  him 
severely,  whenever  he  got  into  close  quarters.  We  split 
the  pot,  each  receiving  $7.50. 


TABLE  SHOWING  THE  BATTLER'S  ACTIVITY  DURING 

HIS  TWELVE  YEARS  OF  FIGHTING  FOR 

THE  CROWN. 


YEAR 

1896 

1897 

1898 

1899 

1900.., 

1901 

1902 

1903 

1904 

1905 

1906 

1907 

1908... 

TOTALS  12  YEARS 


NO.  OF  FIGHTS      ROUNDS    FOUGHT      MONEY   REC  D 


1 

1 

2 

4 

14 

11 

11 

17 

9 

5 

3 

4 

10 

92 


1 
3 

15 
10 
61 
65 
78 
143 
115 
45 
51 
32 
91 

710 


None 

$     3.00 

20.00 

15.00 

179.00 

606.73 

724.50 

2,307.50 

13,303.00 

25,591.00 

35,271.50 

10,500.00 

32,965.57 

$121,486.80 


BATTLING   NELSON  39 

YEAR  VICTORIES  DEFEATS  NO.   DC.  DRAWS  K.   O1*. 

1896.  1000  1 


1897. 
1898. 
1899. 
1900. 
1901. 
1902. 
1903. 
1904. 
1905. 
1906. 
1907. 
1908. 
TOTALS  — 

12  YRS.  43        12        12       14         25 


1000  1 

2000  1 

3001  1 

7          2— 1L.  F.   12  2 

2423  2 

8102  4 

7244  3 

7100  5 

2021  2 

0         1— L.  F.  ?   1        0  0 

0100  0 

3021  3 


12  Years.    Exhibitions  Recorded 11 

Total  Cash  Received  by  The  Battler,  Dating  from 
First  Battle  Held  at  Hammond,  Ind.,  with  Wal- 
lace's Unknown,  Sept.  3,  1896,  up  to  and  Including 

the    Negro,   Joe  Cans $121,486.80 

First  Theatrical  Tour 21,400.00 

Second  Theatrical  Tour 11,000.00 

Odd    Theatricals,    Etc 13,000.00 

Won  in  Side  Bets  During  12  Years'  Boxing 15,000.00 

Funds  Accumulated  on  Successful  Business  Enter- 
prises, Mines,  Real  Estate,  Farms,  Etc 50,000.00 

Actual  Money  Received  During  12  Years'  Fighting.  .$231,886.80 


I  was  a  pretty  busy  sort  of  a  kid  just  then,  and  the  day 
following  I  was  booked  to  box  Joe  Curtain,  and  Jack 
Readle,  exhibition  bouts  in  the  same  ring  at  Eddie  San- 
try's  benefit.  I  was  there  all  right  and  I  went  the  double 
bill  of  3  rounds  each  at  a  merry  clip.  Of  course  neither 
of  the  boys  were  in  my  class  and  I  had  little  trouble  in 
outboxing  them. 

In  Chicago  Nov.  22,  Ed.  Burley,  another  member  of 
the  "Ham  What  Am"  brand,  was  selected  by  the  Chicago 
fight  promoters  to  try  his  hand  and  break,  if  possible,  my 
winning  streak.  Their  selection  again  proved  a  poor  one. 
As  was  the  case  with  Griffo,  I  treated  Burlev  rather 


40  BATTLING   NELSON 

roughly,  and  for  five  rounds  I  hammered  him  about  the 
ring  as  though  he  was  a  punching  bag.  I  finished  him 
in  the  fifth  round  with  a  series  of  right  and  left  swings 
to  the  jaw. 

His  picture  can  be  viewed  in  another  section  of  the 
book  in  my  "Colored  Morgue."  I  received  $10.00  for 
the  finished  job. 

LOST    FIGHT    ON    A   FOUL. 

It  is  not  up  to  me  to  begin  to  knock  but,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  the  only  two  fights  in  which  I  lost  on  a  foul 
the  referee  was  George  Siler,  the  well  known 
referee  and  pugilistic  expert  of  the  Chicago  Tribune. 

The  first  was  to  Pete  Boyle  in  Chicago,  Dec.  i,  1900, 
and  the  second  was  to  Cans  in  Goldfield.  Incidentally  I 
fought  two  fights  on  the  day  I  lost  to  Boyle,  and  you  can 
bet  I  was  a  very  busy  person 

The  battle  with  Boyle  was  a  slashing  one  from  the 
jump,  with  me  doing  all  the  punishing,  leading  and  real 
scrapping.  I  was  a  mile  in  front  in  the  fourth  round 
and  had  Boyle  hanging  on  the  ropes  and  all  but  out,  when 
Mr.  Siler  sprang  forward  and  stopped  the  fight. 

His  contention  was  that  I  had  fouled  Boyle.  He  there- 
upon, with  the  assistance  of  Boyle's  seconds,  helped  him 
to  his  corner  and  gave  him  the  battle.  When  Siler  inter- 
fered and  declared  my  opponent  the  victor  there  was 
quite  a  demonstration  in  the  club  in  my  favor,  mind  you, 
the  members  being  of  the  unanimous  opinion  that  I  had 
done  nothing  during  the  round  which  warranted  my  being 
disqualified.  I  was  paid  $25  for  my  participation  in  the 
"fiasco." 

TWO    BATTLES    IN    ONE    DAY. 

Not  satisfied  with  the  ending  of  the  Boyle  go,  and  re- 
membering that  I  had  dated  up  with  Danny  McMahon  to 
meet  him  in  a  four-round  go  at  the  Hibernian  Society 
entertainment,  booked  to  take  place  at  their  hall,  I  in- 
stantly donned  my  street  clothes,  grabbed  a  rattler  and 


BATTLING   NELSON  41 

in  a  few  moments  I  was  on  the  spot  ready  to  proceed  with 
my  second  fight  of  the  day.  Danny  and  I  mixed  things 
up  rather  lively  for  four  full  rounds,  and  at  its  conclu- 
sion the  referee  decided  that  we  had  both  fought  a  valiant 
scrap  and  he  held  up  both  our  hands,  signaling  a  draw. 
When  the  friendly  Irish  handed  me  a  crisp  $5  note  for 
my  workout  I  was  tickled;  and  I  rolled  home  fairly  well 
pleased  with  the  busy  day's  doings.  To  make  $30  in  one 
day  was  not  so  bad,  eh? 

LAST  FIGHT  IN    lO/XX 

MY  FINAL  GO  of  the  season  was  with  Jack  Martin 
at  Chicago. 

It  was  a  warm  mix-up  of  six  rounds.  We  went  the 
route  all  right  and  Martin  gave  me  quite  a  tussle  of  it, 
although  I  put  him  down  six  times  during  the  fight.  I 
tried  hard  to  add  his  name  to  my  already  long  list  of 
knock-outs  but  to  no  avail.  I  won  the  decision,  receiving 
$25.00  for  my  end  of  the  purse.  During  the  latter  part 
of  the  second  round  while  going  in  Martin  caught  me  on 
the  jaw  and  dropped  me  to  the  mat  for  the  count  of  8. 
I  got  up,  cut  in  and  almost  knocked  him  out.  He  lost 
heart  and  another  round  would  have  finished  him.  Louis 
Zimmerman  acted  as  referee. 


THE   CHAMPION'S   BATTLES  ALPHABETICALLY 
ARRANGED. 

NAME                                                                 ROUNDS  RESULT 

Attell.  Abe 6  No  DC 

Attell,  Abe   15  D 

Bay,  Young   6  W 

Berry,   Charles    6  D 

Berry,  Charles  6  L 

Berry,  Charles   8  L 

Berry,    Charles    4  Exb. 

Boyle,    Pete    4  L-F 

Britt,  Jimmy    20  L 

Britt,  Jimmy     18  K 

Britt,  Jimmy    20  L 


42 


BATTLING   NELSUX 


NAME  ROUNDS 

Britt,  Jimmy     10 

Bromfield,  George 4 

Burley,  Ed   5 

Burns,   Pudden   6 

Bean,    Willard    3 

Canole,  Martin    18 

Class,    Clarence    .  6 

Clifford,   Jack    5 

Corbett,  Young  10 

Corbett,  Young  9 

Colifer,  Frank  5 

Cornett,  Red    : 4 

Curtain,   Joe    3 

Daugherty,  Charles   1 

English,  Clarence   15 

English,   Clarence    13 

Fails,  Harry    ' G 

Fails,    Harry    10 

Freebury,    Tom    4 

Cans,  Joe  42 

Gans,  Joe    17 

Gans,  Joe   21 

Grace,  Jack    3 

Green,  Freddie    7 

Griffin,   Harry    6 

Griffo,   Black    3 

Griffo,  Black   3 

Galligan,  Joe    3 

Hanlon,  Eddie  19 

Herman,    Eddie    6 

Headmark,  Joe  .' 6 

Heck,   Billy 4 

Herrera,  Aurelia    20 

Hurley.  Billy   « 6 

Kelly,  Stockings   4 

McDonald,  Larry     4 

McGovern,   Terry    6 

McMahon,   Danny    4 

McMaTion,    Danny    6 

Mayfield,  Elmer   10 

Markham,  Tommy    3 

Memsic,  George 6 

Maxwell,  Sammy  11 

Martin,   Jack    6 

Neary,   Charles    6 

Nelson,  Mark   4 


RESULT 

No  DC 

No  DC 
K 
W 

Exb. 
K 
D 
K 
K 
K 
K 

Exb. 

Exb. 
K 
D 
W 

No  DC 
D 

Exb. 

L-F  ?  ?  ? 
K 
K 

Exb. 
W 
W 
K 
K 

Exb. 
K 
D 
L 

No  DC 
W 
D 
K 
K 

No  DC 
D 
D 
W 

Exb. 
W 
K 
W 
L 

Exb. 


BATTLING   NELSON  43 

NAME                                                                ROUNDS  RESULT 

O'Neill,  Jack    6  W 

O'Neill,  Jack    6  No  DC 

Olson,  Ole    3  W 

Penny,  Eddie   1  K 

Percente,  Joj   3  W-F 

Percente,   Joe    6  L 

Percente,    Joe    6  D 

Percente,   Joe    8  W 

Perry,  Jeff   3  Exb. 

Riley,  Mickey    6  L 

Riley,  Mickey    6  D 

Riley,  Mickey    11   (Police)  No  DC 

Riley,  Mickey    15  D 

Robinson,   Jack    6  No  DC 

Rosser,    William    1  (2  seconds)  K 

Ryan,    Kid    5  K 

Readle,  Jack    3  Exb. 

Ryan,  Adam  15  D 

Santry,  Eddie   6  L 

Scotty,  Young   8  W 

Si-mms,   Art    3  K 

Sterns,   Eddie    9  L 

Sullivan,   Kid    6  D 

Tildon,  Dare    Devil    2  (Police)  No  DC 

Thompson,  Cyclone  Johnny  6  W 

Thompson,    Cyclone  Johnny    6  W 

Unknown  (John  Smith) 2  W 

Unknown.    Wallace's    1  K 

Unholz,    Rudolph    10  No  DC 

Walsh,   Mike    6  K 

Welsh,    Spider    16  K 

Winters,   Bull    1  W 

Williams,  Soldier   8  K 

Williams,  Christy  17  K 

Vernon,   Feathers  6  No  DC 


CHAPTER  V. 


The  Battler  Gets  *2  a  Word  for  Making  a 
Speech,  Later  Fights  Battle  in  Snow. 

While  I  am  a  great  admirer  of  President  Roosevelt*,  I 
think  he  is  laying  claim  to  a  record  that  I  held  eight 
years  ago.  I  notice  from  the  papers  that  he  is  to  receive 
$i  a  word  for  writing  stories  about  shooting  lions,  and 
some  of  the  magazines  say  that  that  is  the  record  price. 
But  it  isn't.  Right  after  my  fight  with  Mickey  Riley  in 
Milwaukee,  in  1901.  I  made  a  speech  for  which  I  was 
paid  at  the  rate  of  $2  a  word.  It  happened  like  this : 
Riley  danced  around  me  and  would  not  give  me  a.  chance 
to  land  on  him  hard  enough  for  a  knockout.  As  a  result 
the  referee  gave  him  the  decision  on  points.  My  friends 
in  the  crowd  thought  that  I  got  a  little  the  worst  of  it, 
however,  and  they  began  to  yell  for  me. 

"Speech!  Speech!"  was  yelled  from  every  side  of  the 
ring,  and  me  a  poor  little  lad,  had  to  try  and  say  some- 
thing. I  would  rather  have  taken  a  whipping,  as  I  had 
never  said  a  word  in  public  in  my  life. 

"Go  on  and  say  something,  kid,"  said  Tom  Andrews. 
"Pull  something,  boy!"  urged  my  second.  "You  might 
get  a  piece  of  money." 

Everybody  in  the  crowd  began  to  yell  again,  and  with 
a  sickly  grin,  on  my  face  I  stood  up  in  the  middle  of  the 
ring  and  looked  around.  You  would  have  thought  that 
I  was  deaf  and  dumb.  To  save  my  life  I  couldn't  think 
of  a  word  to  say.  "Hurry  up,"  said  Teddy  Murphy  "Pull 
it." 

HIT  IN    MOUTH    WITH    DOLLAR. 

A  great  big  lump  rose  in  my  throat,  but  finally  I 
managed  to  start  a  word  around  it. 

"Gentl" — and  before  I  could  get  the  word  out  of  my 
throat  on  account  of  that  lump — zip — some  fellow  hit  me 
squarely  in  the  mouth  with  a  silver  dollar.  I  came  near 

44 


BATTLING   NELSON 


45 


swallowing  the  dollar,  lump  and  all.  That  ended  that 
speech.  As  I  had  only  said  half  a  word  and  got  a  dollar 
for  it  that  was  at  the  rate  of  $2  a  word,  and  I  claim  the 
record  even  over  Mr.  Roosevelt. 

As  I  was  about  to  duck  under  the  ropes  money  came 
raining  from  every  part  of  the  house—dollars,  halves, 
quarters,  dimes,  nickels  and  pennies.  A  lot  of  it  rolled 
off  the  sides  of  the  ring,  and  right  then  I  got  the  idea 
of  being  a  business  man. 

'Til  give  you  fellows  10  per  cent,  of  all  you  find," 
I  said  to  my  seconds,  and  there  was  a  wild  scramble  to 
pick  up  the  scattered  money.  Finally  they  got  together 
$109.23.  Having  paid  the  10  per  cent,  this  left  me 
$98.31,  in  addition  to  which  I  got  $35  from  the  club 
management.  I  nearly  broke  my  neck  getting  to  the 
postoffice  the  next  morning  so  that  I  could  send  my 
mother  $100.  That  was  by  far  the  largest  amount  of 
money  I  had  ever  made  up  to  that  time. 


BAT    BUYS   SOME    SWELL   CLOTHES. 


The  next  day  I  made  a  tour  of  the 
ing  stores  and  finally  landed  at  Messrs, 
well's    and    attired    myself    in    a 
swell-looking  outfit,  made  up  of  a 
$7  suit  of  clothes,  a  $i  derby  hat, 
a  $1.50  pair  of  kicks  and  the  pret- 
tiest green  necktie  you  ever  saw 
in  your  life.     I  am  not  Irish,  but 
I  certainly  do  love  the  green. 

You  can  imagine  how  tickled  I 
was  over  this  enormous  amount 
of  money,  as  a  little  while  before 
that  I  had  been  robbed  out  of 
$2.50,  which  I  needed  badly,  in 
my  first  fight  with  Joe  Percente, 
the  Italian.  I  was  to  have  re- 
ceived $17.50  win,  lose  or  draw. 
I  won  the  fight  on  a  foul,  but  in- 
stead of  giving  me  $17.50  they 


Cents'  furnish- 
>isson  and  Se- 


46  BATTLING   NELSON 

gave  me  $15.  "If  you  had  lost/'  the  manager  said  to  me 
when  I  kicked,  "I  would  have  given  you  but  $10."  I 
didn't  understand  how  men  could  be  dishonest  up  to 
that  time,  and  it  was  a  pretty  bitter  lesson.  Talking 
about  fouls,  though,  that  fellow  Percente  fouled  me  and 
knocked  me  down  and  then  jumped  on  top  of  me. 

I  fought  Percente  four  times  altogether.  I  beat  him 
twice,  fought  to  a  draw  once  and  lost  one  on  points.  I 
never  was  knocked  out  by  anybody. 

MILWAUKEE   STILL  A    HOODOO. 

As  I  have  said  before,  Milwaukee  was  always  my 
hoodoo,  but  I  decided  to  make  one  more  try,  anyway. 

On  May  3  I  danced  into  the  ring  for  the  third  time 
in  the  old  hard-luck  town.  On  this  occasion  I  hooked 
up  with  Charlie  Berry  in  our  first  meeting.  He  didn't 
make  much  of  a  showing  at  that,  being  content  with 
standing  off  and  boxing  a  la  Attell.  He  refused  to  come 
in  and  fight,  and  as  a  result  the  best  the  referee  could 
do  was  to  declare  the  engagement  a  draw.  I  received 
$50  for  my  end  of  the  pot. 

I  moved  up  the  State  a  bit  here,  and  on  the  evening 
of  May  18  I  found  myself  ready  for  action  at  Omro, 
Wis.  Harry  Fails  was  my  opponent.  He  was  a  hefty 
sort  of  a  scrapper  and  he  went  one  of  the  warmest  old 
six-round  battles  seen  there  in  many  days.  It  was  one 
of  those  "no  decision"  affairs  and  both  were  dissatisfied 
with  the  affair. 

The'  ending  of  this  battle  was  so  unsatisfactorv  to 
both  of  us  and  there  was  so  much  talk  among  the  fans, 
that  it  was  decided  to  match  us  again. 

GOES  IN    BATTLE  IN  SNOW. 

To  have  a  second  match  sounded  all  right,  but  I  am 
here  to  tell  you  that  we  had  our  troubles  right  then  and 
there.  The  sheriff  of  the  county  came  over  and  told 
us  that  if  we  attempted  to  fight  at  Omro  that  he  would 
arrest  the  whole  bunch,  and  that  a  few  of  us  might  get 


BATTLING   NELSON  47 

in  the  pen.  That  gave  us  a  scare,  because  that  peni- 
tentiary thing  didn't  make  much  of  a  hit  with  me.  The 
sheriff  said  the  authorities  higher  up  had  notified  him 
that  if  he  didn^t  prevent  the  fight  his  job  would  go  to 
some  other  man. 

The  fight  "bugs"  wouldn't  have  any  delay,  however, 
and  they  got  busy.  Being  a  mere  kid  and  searching  for 
adventure  this  idea  of  doing  something  on  the  sly  got 
next  to  me  and  I  was  right  in  for  it.  Fails  was  also 
willing  to  take  a  chance.  So,  the  sports  went  to  work 
and  hired  all  the  rigs  in  town  and  early  in  the  morning 
we  set  out  for  Rheinlander,  Wis.,  which  was  just  across 
the  county  line. 

Our  troubles  were  not  over  yet,  for,  just  as  we  started 
there  came  up  a  heavy  snow.  That  was  the  first  time  I 
had  ever  seen  it  snow  in  May,  but  it  was  bitterly  cold. 
We  two  fighters  didn't  have  any  way  to  ride,  and  while 
some  of  the  fellows  offered  to  let  us  sit  in  their  laps  we 
decided  to  hoof  it,  as  it  would  be  good  training,  any- 
way. The  snow  came  down  in  great  sheets.  In  fact, 
it  snowed  so  hard  that  we  couldn't  see  100  yards  ahead 
of  us,  and  \ve  were  afraid  all  the  time  of  being  stopped 
by  some  constable  who  was  just  as  liable  to  let  his  gun 
go  off  as  not.  I  had  on  my  little  $7  suit,  but  before  I 
had  gone  two  miles  the  wind  had  blown  it  out  of  shape 
and  I  almost  cried. 

FOUGHT    IN    AN    OLD    BARN. 

The  whole  gang  of  country  sports  finally  landed  safely 
across  the  line  and,  frozen  nearly  stiff,  we  fighters  were 
taken  into  a  big  barn  that  had  formerly  been  used  by 
goats.  We  had  to  jump  up  and  down  to  keep  warm, 
and  when  I  donned  the  fighting  togs  the  goose  pimples 
broke  out  on  me  as  big  as  small  peas. 

After  everybody  had  got  their  bets  down  a  long, 
lank  country  "sport"  was  selected  as  referee.  The  in- 
fluence that  caused  him  to  be  selected  was  the  fact  that 
his  daddv  owned  the  barn. 


48  BATTLING  NELSON 

Well,  we  finally  went  at  it  hammer  and  tongs.  It 
was  ten  rounds  and  every  minute  was  filled  with  tough 
fighting.  The  crowd  was  howling  all  the  time  and  urg- 
ing each  of  us  to  knock  the  other  out,  'but  we  couldn't. 

At  the  end  both  of  us  were  fresh  and  ready  to  go 
on,  but  the  "sport"  who  had  been  refereeing  grabbed 
both  our  right  hands,  and  holding  them  aloft,  exclaimed : 
"Even  up,  boys,  hang-fiddled  if  she  wasn't." 

Of  course,  he  meant  by  that  peculiar  decision  that 
we  had  fought  a  draw  bout. 

MONEY   ROLLED   THROUGH    CRACKS. 

There  was  no  purse  to  fight  for,  but  the  generous 
sports  began  showering  us  with  coin.  We  immediately 
decided  to  divide  evenly  all  that  was  picked  up.  There 
were  some  tall  pickings,  too.  The  cracks  in  the  floor 
were  very  large  and  a  lot  of  the  money  rolled  through. 
Not  to  be  done  out  of  anything  we  got  a  hammer  and 
a  crowbar  and  pried  up  the  floor  planks.  When  we 
had  gotten  all  the  coin  together  we  each  had  $150. 
That  was  enough  to  make  up  for  the  hardships  we  had 
suffered,  and  having  learned  something  about  $7  clothes 
I  went  right  back  to  town  and  planked  down  $12.50  like 
a  real  "sport"  and  told  the  clerk  to  give  me  the  best 
in  the  house. 

ANOTHER   TILT    IN    A    BARN. 

AFTER  MY  GO  with  Fails  at  Rhinelander,  I  hit  the 
road  for  a  tour  of  the  northern  resorts,  intent  on  resting 
up  a  bit.  I  did  not  even  view  a  fight  until  November  loth, 
when  I  tied  up  with  Bill  Heck,  at  West  Pullman,  111. 
This  was  not  much  of  a  battle,  as  we  fought  but  four 
rounds,  it  being  one  of  those  "no  decisions"  affairs. 
My  end  of  the  purse  amounted  to  $5.00.  We  fought 
in  Pete  Kelley's  barn. 


BATTLING   NELSON  49 

COMPLETE  TABLE  OF  BOXERS  WHO  SECURED  THE 
VERDICT  OVER  THE  CHAMPION. 

OPPONENT  ROUNDS  DECISION 

Berry,  Charles    6  Won 

Berry,  Charles    6  Won 

Boyle,  Pete  4  Won  on  foul 

Britt,  Jimmie   20  Won 

Britt,  Jimmie  20  Won 

Cans,  Joe   42  Won  on  foul  ? 

Hedmark,  Joe   6  Won 

Neary,  Charles    6  Won 

Percente,    Joe    6  Won 

Riley,   Mickey    6  Won 

Santry,   Eddie    6  Won 

Stearns,    Eddie    9  Won 

Total  Fights  Decided  Against  Me...  Twelve 

Unlike  most  fighters  who  reach  the  top  and  then  immediately 
take  .steps  to  cover  up  their  old  records,  I  am  herewith  giving 
out  for  the  very  first  time,  a  correct  table  of  record  showing  in 
detail  just  how  many  boxers  defeated  me.  The  battles  with 
Berry,  Boyle,  Hedmark,  Riley,  Percente,  et  al,  were,  as  will  be 
observed,  all  limited  goes,  and  were  fought  when  I  was  a  "green 
kid."  You  will  observe  the  names  of  the  two  BIG  ones — GANS 
and  BRITT,  above.  Well,  on  another  page  among  my  list  of 
Knock-outs  you  will  also  find  their  names  boldly  inscribed.  It 
is  from  this  pair  that  I  won  the  WORLD'S  CHAMPIONSHIP. 


PRES.  THEODORE  ROOSEVELT  AND  BATTLING  NEL- 
SON  AT  WHITE  HOUSE,  WASHINGTON,  D.  C. 


On  February  14, 1909,  I  paid  a  short  visit  to  the  White  House  to  call  on  Pres- 
ident Roosevelt  and  was  received  royally  and  had  the  honor  of  spending  about  an 
hour  in  his  company, 

Theodore  Roosevelt's  name  is  one  that  will  be  associated  in  the  minds  of  the 
American  people  with  that  of  George  Washington  and  Abraham  Lincoln. 


50 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Nelson  Learns  of  Dishonesty  for  First 

Time.    Was  " Jobbed"  in  Fight 

With  Eddie  Santry. 

The  worst  evil  that  a  young  pugilist  has  to  encounter  is 
the  tendency  on  the  part  of  certain  men  connected  with 
the  game  to  make  him  dishonest.  These  smooth  talk- 
ing fellows  who  are  not  game  enough  to  take  an  even 
chance  and  bet  their  money  on  the  man  they  think  will 
win,  hang  around  a  fighter's  training  quarters  like 
wolves.  They  are  continually  making  propositions  to 
the  coming  champions  to  sell  out.  These  offers  of 
large  amounts  of  money  sometimes  turn  the  head  of 
the  boy  whose  will  isn't  too  strong  at  best,  and  they 
frequently  become  dishonest. 

I  shall  never  forget  how  one  of  these  human  wolves 
came  to  me  before  my  fight  with  Aurelia  Herrera  and 
offered  me  $10,000  and  half  of  the  money  he  won  on 
bets  if  I  would  lose. 

"You  had  better  go  and  bet  that  $10,000  on  me  and 
pay  nothing,"  I  told  him,  "for  I  am  going  to  win  any- 
way." He  went  away  saying  he  was  afraid  to  take  the 
chance.  After  that  I  would  not  let  him  near  my  training 
quarters. 

But  that  is  getting  a  little  ahead  of  my  story.  The 
young  fellow  just  starting  out  is  often  trapped  into 
things  which  hurt  his  record,  even  though  he  is  per- 
fectly honest.  This  is  one  of  the  pitfalls  that  all  pugilists 
encounter  at  the  start.  They  are  so  ignorant  of  the 
ways  of  the  world  that  they  think  everybody  connected 
with  the  game  honest. 

BAT'S   FIRST    RAW   DEAL. 

The  first  raw  deal  that  I  got  was  in  my  fight  with 

51 


52  BATTLING   NELSON 

% 

Eddie  Santry  at  Chicago  Nov.  29,  1901.  It  was  for  six 
rounds. 

Immediately  after  my  mill  with  Percente,  Santry  \s 
manager  challenged  me  for  a  go.  I,  of  course,  accepted, 
but  wanted  a  longer  fight.  He  refused  to  go  over  six 
rounds,  so  I  had  to  accept,  being  glad  at  the  time  to  get 
a  chance  to  box  him  at  any  distance. 

The  fight  was  pulled  off  at  the  famous  old  Pyramid 
Athletic  Club.  From  the  very  tap  of  the  gong  in  the 
opening  round  clear  down  to  the  conclusion  of  the  sixth 
I  battered  Santry  all  over  the  ring. 

I  made  him  break  ground  every  inch  of  the  way,  car- 
ried the  fight  to  him  and  did  75  per  cent,  of  the  leading. 

In  the  final  round  I  clipped  Santry  on  the  jaw  and  he 
went  to  the  mat.  He  was  all  but  out.  I  was  dancing 
around  in  glee,  waiting  for  him  to  get  up,  and  the  crowd 
was  yelling  like  mad  men.  I  noticed  Santry  say  some- 
thing as  he  was  falling,  but  I  could  not  make  out  the 
words. 

GIVES    DECISION    TO    FALLEN    MAN. 

Imagine  my  surprise  when  a  minute  later  Referee 
Jimmy  Bardell  grabbed  the  fallen  Santry  by  the  right 
hand  and  held  it  aloft.  That  meant  that  Santry  had 
won  the  fight.  I  was  a-lmost  knocked  dumb  with  sur- 
prise. I  had  been  winning  all  the  way  and  saw  a  chance 
for  new  honors.  As  I  afterward  found  out,  Santry — 
old  fox  that  he  was — got  the  ear  of  Bardell  before  he 
went  on  and  said:  "Bardell,  everything  is  all  fixed.  I 
am  going  to  allow  Nelson  to  stay  the  limit  so  he  can  win 
a  reputation  by  going  this  far  with  ME.  I  am,  of  course, 
to  receive  the  decision  on  points." 

It  was  a  beautiful  frame  up  indeed — from  Santry's 
end.  At  the  time  I  was  an  unsophisticated  kid  and 
little  suspected  that  I  was  being  robbed.  That's  why 
they  put  one  over  on  me.  After  Bardell  had  given 
Santry  the  decision  I  was  very  angry.  I  stepped  up  to 
him  and  asked  an  explanation.  Here's  what  he  said: 


BATTLING   NELSON  53 

"Why,  Nelson,  Santry  told  me  everything  was  fixed  for 
him  to  win." 

Evidently  Bardell  and  the  club  managers  at  that  time 
imagined  I  should  be  willing  to  stand  for  such  a  game. 
They  were  badly  mistaken,  I'll  tell  you.  It  was  my 
policy  to  fight  on  the  square  at  all  times. 

After  the  Santry  jobbery  I  went  over  to  Milwaukee 
and  fought  another  draw  with  Joe  Percente,  the  Italian. 
I  didn't  stay  there  long,  however,  as  I  wanted  to  be  in 
Chicago  the  following  day. 

THE   FRESH    KID   MAKES   GOOD. 

The  second  day  after  I  arrived  in  Chicago  I  was 
playing  pool  with  a  pal  of  mine  on  Wabash  avenue.  The 
boys  standing  around  got  to  talking  about  prize  fight- 
ing and  I  cut  in  as  if  I  knew  something. 

"I  can  fight  some  myself,"  I  remarked  to  a  fellow 
who  had  started  up  an  argument. 

"So  you  can  fight,  can  you,"  he  replied  in  a  sarcastic 
way,  and  everybody  laughed.  He  was  a  kind  of  a  bully 
around  there,  and  everybody  always  laughed  when  he 
said  anything.  They  had  to. 

"Yes,  I  can  fight,"  was  the  way  I  came  back  at  him. 
"And  more'n  that,  I'll  bet  money  on  it."  I  was  kind 
of  cut  up  over  being  shown  up  and  I  dug  my  little  bank- 
roll of  $6  up  and  offered  to  bet  it. 

About  that  time  Johnny  Hertz,  manager  of  a  fight 
club,  dropped  in  and  he  began  to  listen  to  my  talk.  He 
seemed  to  take  a  liking  to  me  right  away  and  came  over 
and  bought  me  a  soda  .water. 

"Kid,"  he  said,  "do  you  really  want  to  fight?"  I  told 
him  that  I  sure  did. 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you,  I've  got  a  fellow  over  here  named 
Mike  Wralsh,  and  he  was  to  go  on  to-night,  but  the  other 
man  has  failed  to  show  up.  If  you  want  to  fight  you 
can  have  the  chance.  He  is  a  much  bigger  fellow  than 
you,  however.  He  is  a  middleweight.  If  you  can  make 
any  kind  of  a  showing  I  will  give  you  $75." 


54  BATTLING   NELSON 

That  made  my  eyes  open  and  I  jumped  at  it.  "I 
don't  care  how  big  he  is,"  I  said,  and  with  the  crowd 
following  me  I  went  over  to  the  American  Athletic 
Club  at  Thirty-first  street  and  Wabash  avenue.  , 

WALSH   SNEERED  AT   HIM. 

When  Walsh  saw  me  he  sneered  and  told  the  man- 
ager that  he  had  better  get  a  man.  "I'm  not  here  to 
lick  kids,"  he  said,  as  he  looked  me  over. 

After  some  talk  we  finally  got  into  our  fighting  togs 
and  into  the  ring  we  went.  The  first  crack  out  of  the 
box  I  shot  one  into  his  bread  basket  that  doubled  him  up 
in  a  knot.  It  had  him  going,  but  he  was  so  big  that  he 
quickly  got  over  it.  He  was  six  feet  tall  and  I  was 
only  five  feet  six  then.  Though  he  outweighed  me  by 
pounds,  was  taller,  more  experienced  and  tougher,  I 
lambasted  his  slats  for  fair. 

In  the  sixth  round  I  stung  Mike  in  the  stomach  again 
and  he  appeared  to  get  very  angry. 

"Why,  you  fresh  little  runt,"  he  snapped  at  me,  "I'll 
take  you  up  and  swallow  you  whole."  The  crowd 
laughed  at  this,  but  I  was  just  as  fresh  as  he  was,  and 
I  came  right  back  at  him. 

"Well,"  I  replied,  "if  you  do  you'll  have  more  fight- 
ing sense  in  your  belly  than  you've  got  in  your  head." 
This  brought  a  big  laugh  from  the  fellows  who  hear  1 
it,  and  Walsh  was  so  surprised  that  he  dropped  his 
hands  to  his  side  to  glare  at  me.  Just  as  he  did  I  let 
one  fly  from  my  hip  that  caught  him  squarely  on  the 
jaw  and  he  hit  the  mat  with  a  jolt.  He  was  out  for  fair. 
When  he  fell  his  neck  hit  the  ropes,  he  was  so  tall. 

I  got  my  $75,  and  that  night  was  hero  at  the  pool- 
room where  the  fellow  had  tried  to  make  fun  of  me. 
Nobody  around  that  place  ever  took  me  for  a  mark  after 
that. 

ENDS  SEASON   WITH  A   DEFEAT. 

I  concluded  the  siege  of  1901  in  old  "Jonahville," 
Milwaukee,  tying  up  with  Charley  Berry  again.  We 


BATTLING   NELSON' 


55 


met  the  night  after  I  had  cleaned  up  big  middleweight 
Walsh,  and  I  felt  as  though  I  was  due  to  close  up  the 
final  chapter  of  the  reason  by  licking  Berry.  He  pur- 
sued his  same  old  tactics  of  stalling,  holding  on  in 
clinches  and  dancing  around  the  ring,  keeping  out  of 
harm's  way,  and  as  a  result  I  hardly  got  a  chance  to 
hand  over  my  sleep  pills  during  the  fight. 

I  just  couldn't  shake  the  hoodoo,  and  though  I  was 
giving  him  the  worst  of  it  whenever  I  got  near  him, 
and  at  the  finish  was  smothering  him  with  blows,  he 
was  awarded  the  decision  on  "points." 

So  ended  the  hardest  and  unluckiest  year  of  fight- 
ing experienced  by  me  during  my  entire  career — 1901. 

SYNOPSIS  OF  TAD'S  LIFE. 

(BY     BAT.) 

T.  A.  Dorgan  (the  cartoonist,  who  has  several  illus- 
trations of  my  career  in  this  book),  known  the  world 
over  as — TAD — is  a  very  unique 
person,  indeed.  He  was  born 
amidst  flowers  and  sunshine.  He 
first  saw  the  light  of  day  in  San 
Francisco,  Cal.,  Sunday,  April 
29,  1877.  He  was  reared  in  the 
same  neighborhood  as  Jimmy 
I.ritt,  Frankie  Neal  and  Joe 
Kennedy,  which  is  known  as 
South  of  Market. 

When  Tad  was  still   a  good 
sized  kid  his  folks  moved  over 
to    the    Hayes    Valley    dist'rict. 
Incidentally    he    was    compelled 
BAT.  to  move   along   with   his    folks. 

He  was  still  in  a  neighborhood  of  such  noted  mitt  push- 
ers as  James  J.  Corbett,  Joe  Choyinski  and  others  of 
note,  and  consequently  got  interested  in  sports  such  as 
boxing,  foot  racing  and,  in  fact,  every  sport  known  to 
the  kids. 

As  a  mere  strippling  he  befell  an  accident  to  his  right 


TAD.  SPORTING  CARTOONIST  OP  NEW  YORK  EVENING  JOURNAL. 

56 


BATTLING   NELSON  57 

arm,  rendering  that  wing  paralyzed.  He  has  been  com- 
pelled to  earn  a  living  with  his  one  remaining  mitt — his 
left,  or  south  paw — which,  by  the  way,  is  a  sure  enough 
''bread  winner." 

TAD   A 'REAL   SCRAPPER 

He  went  through  grammar  school  and  graduated  at 
the  head  of  his  class.  While  attending  school  he  was  a 
frequent  visitor  to  the  fighters  training  camps  and  drew 
many  cartoons  of  the  fighters  doing  their  training  stunts. 
He  also  got  so  that  he  could  use  his  mitts — or  rather  his 
remaining  mitt,  and  had  all  the  boys  of  his  size  buffaloed 
with  his  skill  as  a  glove  wielder. 

Graduating  from  grammar  school  he  went  to  the  Poly- 
technic High  School,  where  Miss  Van  Vleck  gave  him 
his  first  real  lessons.  After  graduating  from  the  Poly- 
technic High  School  he  secured  a  job  from  the  San  Fran- 
cisco Bulletin,  drawing  fashion  plates  for  no  salary. 

After  six  years  of  working  on  that  paper  he  had 
worked  his  way  up  to  being  a  "Sporting  Cartoonist,"  and 
was  receiving  the  largest  salary  ever  paid  a  man  in  that 
department  on  that  paper. 

The  last  year's  work  was  of  such  rare  quality  that  all 
the  leading  papers  in  the  United  States  were  bidding  for 
his  services. 

ARTHUR    BRISBANE   LANDS  TAD 

Arthur  Brisbane,  one  of  the  cleverest  editorial  writ- 
ers, and,  without  a  doubt,  the  highest  salaried  newspaper 
man  in  the  world,  sought  his  services.  After  out  bid- 
ding all  others  he  secured  Tad's  "John  Hancock"  to  an 
agreement  to  work  as  sporting  cartoonist  of  the  New 
York  Journal,  where  he  has  been  dropping  them  ever 
since  with  "one  punch." 

Tad,  in  my  estimation,  as  a  cartoonist,  is  in  a  class 
all  by  himself. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Bat  Nelson's  Father  Makes  Him  Fight 

for  Honor  of  Hegewisch, 

and  He  Wins. 

In  1902  the  Battler  engaged  in  eleven  fights,  and  re- 
ceived $873.50  in  purses. 

I  got  an  early  start  of  it  in  1902,  beginning  early  in  Jan- 
uary and  continuing  uninterruptedly  up  to  almost  the 
close  of  the  year.  I  faced  the  referee  just  eleven  times. 

I  fought  78  rounds  all  told.  I  managed  to  win  eight 
of  my  eleven  starts.  I  knocked  out  four  of  my  opponents, 
and  won  the  decision  over  four  others. 

When  I  had  finished  my  fight  with  Charley  Berry,  in 
December,  1901,  it  was  getting  close  on  to  Christmas, 
and  it  was  up  to  me  to  hike  back  to  Hegewisch.  I  am 
awful  strong  for  Christmas  at  home  and  that  hanging 
up  the  stocking  thing  still  has  a  hold  on  me.  Every 
Christmas  as  regular  as  a  clock  I  hang  up  my  sock,  and 
my  good  old  mother  never  fails  to  see  that  Santa  Claus 
puts  something  in  it. 

With  $50  in  my  pocket  I  reached  Hegewisch  two  days 
before  Christmas  Eve,  and  I  had  to  get  very  busy,  as 
all  the  kids  were  writing  letters  to  Santa  Claus  and 
giving  them  to  me  to  "mail."  The  little  rascals  were 
wise  about  Santa  Claus,  but  they  tried  to  make  me  be- 
lieve that  they  were  not,  and,  of  course,  I  "fell."  I 
couldn't  buy  everything  they  wranted,  because  one  of 
them  wanted  a  big  balloon  with  a  parachute  so  that  they 
could  go  up  and  make  parachute  leaps!  Can  you  beat 
that? 

On  Christmas  Day  my  father  called  me  into  the  little 
parlor  and  said  he  wanted  to  have  a  talk. 

"Now,  Bat,"  he  began,  and  then  he  told  me  that  he 

58 


BATTLING   NELSON 


59 


wanted  me  to  stop  the  fighting  business.     "Before  you 
leave  home,"  he  said,  "you  must  promise." 

WOULD   NOT   PROMISE  TO  QUIT  THE  RING. 

I  wouldn't  exactly  promise,  but  told  him  I  •would 
think  it  over.  So  we  all  went  downtown.  The  crowd  in 
Hegewisch  usually  hangs  out  at  Dad  Knight's  bar.  Just 
as  we  went  in  the  door  two  fellows  were  having  an  argu- 
ment. One  of  them  was  from  Pullman,  where  they 
make  the  sleeping  cars.  In  Hegewisch  we  have  the 
largest  car  works  in  the  world,  but  we  only  make  work- 
ing cars,  such  as  flat  cars,  freight  cars,  etc. 

The  Pullman  fellows  think  they  have  something  on 
us  because  they  make  fancy  cars,  and  there  is  always 
an  argument  about  which  is  the  better  town. 

"Maybe  you  do  make  the  best  cars/'  said  the  fellow 
from  Hegewisch,  "but  you  can't  fight  over  there." 

"Can't  fight?"  snapped  the  other  fellow.  "What's 
tearing  at  you?  Why  we've  got  the  greatest  fighter  in 
the  world  at  Pullman,  and  he  can  lick  anything  that 


BAT     AS     SANTA     CLAUS. 


60  BATTLING   NELSON 

ever  growed  in  Hegewisch.  I'd  like  to  see  you  show 
some  guy  who  could  face  Frankie  Colifer.  Why,  he's  a 
whirlwind." 

"Get  out!"  cried  the  Hegewisch  man.  "Hegewisch 
can  beat  anybody  in  Pullman  at  anything,  and  I'll  bet 
you  on  it."  Just  then  he  spied  me  and  the  old  man 
as  we  came  in  the  door. 

"Say,  kid,"  he  said,  "can't  you  lick  any  body  your 
weight  in  Pullman?" 

I  said  "I  was  willing  to  try,  and  would  take  a  chance 
at  it  anyway." 

"You  tink  dey  got  boy  over  dere  vot  can  beat  my  boy— 
vot?"  my  father  flared  up  in  his  funny  Danish  dialect. 
"Veil,  ve'd  lack  to  see  him.  My  boy  bane  a  vender;" 
and  the  old  man  was  getting  all  worked  up.  He  had 
forgotten  all  about  my  promising  not  to  fight  any  more. 

HIS   DANISH    FATHER    GETS    ANGRY. 

"I  bet — I  bet — I  bet  you  von  tousand  dollars,"  the 
old  man  said  excitedly,  as  he  kept  getting  redder  in  the 
face.  "Leek  my  boy — vot?" 

"Bat,"  he  said  turning  to  me,  "you  go  an'  leek  dis 
Pullman  boy,  and  eef  you  dake  a  leekin — veil,  I  leek  some 
myself,  huh?  vot ?" 

There  was  nothing  to  it  now.  I  had  to  fight  for  the 
honor  of  Hegewisch,  and  the  fellow  who  was  boosting 
me  patted  me  on  the  shoulder  and  said :  "Now  bring  on 
your  fancy  Pullman  fighter !" 

For  the  next  few  days  the  town  was  wild  with  the 
talk  of  the  coming  fight  and  they  were  betting  their 
shoes.  The  same  thing  was  going  on  in  Pullman,  which 
was  just  six  miles  away.  We  boys  had  two  weeks  in 
which  to  get  ready,  and  on  Jan.  13,  1902,  everybody  in 
Hegewisch  went  over  to  West  Pullman  to  see  the  go. 
The  town  was  closed  up.  It  was  a  general  holiday. 

We  fought  in  an  empty  barn  adjoining  Pete  Kelley's 
saloon,  and  the  bout  was  to  have  gone  six  rounds. 

This  fellow  Colifer  was  a  pretty  good  fighter  at  that, 


BATTLING   NELSON 


61 


but  I  remembered  that  I  was  battling  for  the  honor  of 
my  home  town,  and  I  tore  at  him  like  a  demon.  The 
building  was  packed  so  that  it  bulged  out  at  the  sides. 
On  one  side  the  Pullman  employees  were  pulling  for 
their  man,  and  on  the  other  it  seemed  to  me  like  all 
the  Danes  and  Swedes  in  the  world  were  pulling  for  me. 
You  know  I  had  made  peace  with  the  Swedes  by  this 
time,  and  they  were  working  in  perfect  harmony  with  us 
Danes.  This  time  we  were  all  together.  Everybody  in 
the  town  had  made  a  little  bet. 

HAMMERED   AT   THE   RIBS. 

The  first  few  rounds  went  along  pretty  even,  but  I 
was  hammering  away  at  Colifer's  wind,  and  it  was  be- 
ginning to  tell.  In 
the  fifth  round  while 
the  Danes  and 
Swedes  were  talking 
all  sorts  of  languages 
and  yelling  for  me  to 
go  on  I  cracked  Coli- 
in  the  stomach.  He 
doubled  over  and  as 
his  head  came  down 
I  hung  a  beaut 
squarely  on  his  chin 
and  he  flopped  over 
on  the  mat.  By  this  time  the  Hegewisch  crowd  was 
crazy  with  joy.  Colifer  was  very  limp  and  took  the 
full  count  of  nine,  and  then  to  everybody's  surprise,  he 
got  up.  He  was  certainly  game  to  the  core.  As  he  got 
to  his  feet  I  set  myself  and  got  a  clean  right-handed 
swing  on  his  jaw.  This  put  him  out  for  good,  and  we 
had  a  hard  time  bringing  him  back  to  consciousness. 

The  last  word  I  heard  as  I  started  to  jump  out  of  the 
ring  was,  "An'  dey  dink  dey  can  leek  my  boy,  vot !" 
followed  by  a  familiar  chuckle.  The  old  man  was  still 
on  the  job. 


62  BATTLING   NELSON 

I  was  handed  fifty  one  dollar  bills'  for  my  victory,  and 
I  won  that  much  more  in  bets  that  I  had  made  with  the 
Pullman  employees. 

My  success  in  saving  the  fighting  honor  of  Hegewisch 
appeared  to  take  all  of  the  talk  out  of  the  old  man  about 
making  me  quit  the  game.  From  this  time  on  he  was  a 
dyed-in-the-wool  fight  fan.  To  this  day  he  thinks  there 
is  nobody  in  the  world  who  "can  leek  his  boy,  vot!"  and, 
between  you  and  me,  his  son  Battling  has  got  somewhat 
of  the  same  notion. 

HIS  TERRIBLE  EXPERIENCE  IN  RING. 

Anyway  the  change  in  my  dear  old  father  was  enough 
to  warrant  me  in  starting  out  again.  Having  had  good 
luck  in  Wisconsin  I  journeyed  that  way  again,  and  it 
was  at  Fond  du  Lac,  tv/o  weeks  later,  that  I  met  Charley 
Berry  for  the  third  and  last  time. 

I  had  lost,  as  stated,  a  close  decision  to  Berry  the 
December  previous,  and  he  challenged  me  again.  This 
time  we  had  eight  rounds,  though  I  held  out  for  twelve 
or  fifteen  rounds.  Like  our  previous  battle  the  affair 
went  the  full  eight  rounds.  He  fought  a  pretty  stiff 
sort  of  a  battle  throughout,  but  although  at  no  time  did 
he  have  the  best  of  the  fighting,^Referee  Tom  Ryan 
of  Oshkosh  awarded  the  plum  to  him.  In  the  final 
rounds  I  forced  Berry  through  the  ropes  in  my  anxiety 
to  put  him  out.  Fearing  he  would  be  killed,  as  the  drop 
to  the  floor  was  about  eight  feet,  I  tried  to  catch  him  as, 
he  was  falling.  I  did  this  because  I  figured  I  had  gained 
a  big  lead  and  thought  that  I  had  the  battle  wrapped 
up.  Therefore  I  grabbed  him  to  check  the  fall,  in  order 
to  give  his  fat  manager  Paddy  Dorrell  a  chance  to  pro- 
tect his  man.  Paddy  during  the  excitement  made  a  mis- 
step in  his  corner  and  fell,  and  Berry  tumbled  over  him, 
thus  saving  himself  from  a  hard  fall.  I  was  in  the 
wreck  and  tumbled  headlong  over  a  chair,  my  head  strik- 
ing a  post,  almost  knocking-  me  out  as  well. 

The  gong  sounded  and  Referee  Ryan  held  up  Berry's 


BATTLING   NELSON  63 

hand  as  the  winner.     I  received  $75  for  my  end,  though 
I  lost  out. 

FINALLY   BEAT   JOE    PERCENTE. 

Joe  Percente  and  I  met  for  the  fourth  and  last  time 
at  Oshkosh,  Wis.,  on  March  13,  1902.  I  had  caught  a 
bad  cold  after  the  Berry  affair,  and  when  I  weighed  in, 
clothes  and  all  mind  you,  the  beam  scarcely  tipped  130 
pounds.  I  was  game,  however,  and  went  in  to  hand  Sir 
Joseph  a  good  beating.  I  carried  the  fight  to  him  and 
won  the  bout  in  handy  fashion. 

RETURNS  TO  WINDY  CITY  AND  KNOCKS  OUT  KID  RYAN. 

I  RETURNED  TO  CHICAGO  after  the  win  over 
Percente,  and  was  matched  with  Kid  Ryan  in  the  feature 
bout,  on  a  lovely  St.  Patrick's  Day  evening,  March  17, 
of  course. 

Strange  to  relate,  I  had  previously  fought  on  each 
Irish  day  of  celebration,  and  had  managed  to  win  each 
time  with  a  knockout. 

Ryan,  will  be  remembered  by  the  fight  fans  of  Chi- 
cago and  vicinity  as  a  slashing  sort  of  a  boxer.  He  tried 
his  rushing  tactics  on  me  early  in  the  fight,  but  after  I 
had  met  his  fierce  rushes  with  a  series  of  telling  upper- 
cuts  and  left  hooks,  he  backed  up  a  bit  and  allowed  me 
to  do  the  leading.  The  bout,  according  to  the  announcer, 
was  to  go  six  rounds.  It  didn't,  however,  as  in  the  fifth 
round  I  sailed  in  and  hooked  Ryan  "crooly"  on  the  jaw 
several  times,  also  using  my  left  half-scissors  hook  on 
the  liver,  and  down  he  went  for  the  fatal  ten  seconds.  I 
was  handed  $75  for  the  job.  Besides  I  won  a  nice  little 
side  bet. 

WINS  DECISION  OVER  CYCLONE  JOHNNY  THOMPSON. 

THE   WEEK   FOLLOWING   the  knocking  out   of 


64 


BATTLING   NELSON 


Ryan  found  me  matched  with  the  then  coming  Cyclone 
Johnny  Thompson.  We  tied  up  on  the  night  of  March 
21,  and  there  was  surely  a  cyclone  all  right  that  struck  the 
place — but  it  was  not  of  the  Thompson  variety.  No,  it 
was  another  of  those  Nelsonian  whirlwinds  which  even 
at  that  date  was  scouting  about  knocking  aspiring  young 
pugilists  into  oblivion  and  other  places. 

The  Cyclone  was  prettily  dusted  out  of  wind  in  the 
early  rounds  of  the  battle,  and  his  famous  "funnel" 
shaped  cloudy  rushes  wouldn't  work  at  all.  I  beat  him 
into  submission  in  the  final  rounds  of  the  fight,  though 
did  not  knock  him  completely  out.  I  won  the  decision 
easily ;  also  the  snug  sum  of  $100  purse  money. 

Going  up  a  bit  in  the  financial  world  ? 


SYNOPSIS  OF  EDGREN. 
(BY  BAT.) 


BAT. 

He  was  a  human 
inches. 


Robert  Edgren,  sporting  editor 
and  cartoonist  of  New  York 
Evening  World,  commonly  known 
as  Bob  Edgren,  has  donated  sev- 
eral cartoons,  illustrating  my  life, 
etc.,  and,  of  course,  the  book 
would  be  incomplete  without  his 
invaluable  pen  and  ink  drawings. 

Bob  first  saw  the  light  of  day  in 
good  old  Chicago  town.  He  grad- 
uated from  the  primary  grades 
and  then  moved  his  bag  and 
baggage  to  California,  the  land  of 
climates  and  apricots  (and  some 
lemons).  While  on  the  Pacific 
Coast  he  put  on  weight  rapidly  un- 
til he  weighed  over  200  pounds, 
giant.  His  stature  was  6  feet  2 


BATTLING   NELSON  65 

USED  WEIGHT  FOR  MORE  THAN  BALLAST. 

While  attending  the  University  of  California  Bob, 
with  his  225  pounds  of  human  avoirdupois,  figured  to  use 
it  for  more  than  ballast.  He  took  up  hammer  throw- 
ing and  won  every  contest  he  entered  for  two  or  three 
years,  breaking  J.  Sarsfield  Mitchell's  record  by  two  feet 
and  became  a  champion. 

For  a  year  Bob  threw  out  his  chest  as  "King  Pin  of 
Hammer  Throwers."  John  Flanagan  came  to  this  coun- 
try and  beat  Edgren's  record  by  about  three  feet.  Flan- 
agan afterward  put  the  record  on  the  shelf  beyond  the 
reach  of  Edgren. 

SPARRING  PARTNER  FOR  JIM  CORBETT. 

About  the  time  Jim  Corbett  went  into  training  for  his 
championship  fight  at  Carson  City  with  Bob  Fitzsim- 
mons,  he  was  looking  for  big  men  to  spar  with.  As  Ed- 
gren had  showed  great  skill  with  the  mitts  he  was  in- 
vited to  join  the  Corbett  training  staff,  which  .position 
he  filled  like  a  veteran. 

STARTS  NEWSPAPER  WORK  IN   NEW   YORK  CITY. 

Following  the  Corbett-Fitzsimmons  fight  he  started 
work  on  a  New  York  paper  doing  some  cartoon  work 
as  well  as  writing  some  articles  on  sporting  events.  One 
day  he  drew  a  freckle  and  outlined  the  form  of  Fitz- 
simmons  around  it.  Next  day  his  boss  gave  him  a  raise 
in  salary.  Ever  since  Fitz  has  been  pictured  as  a  "Hu- 
man Freckle." 

PUTS  SHIP  ON  SHARKEY'S  BREAST. 

Encouraged  by  the  success  of  the  freckle  and  the  boost 
on  the  payroll  Bob  drew  a  picture  of  Tom  Sharkey, 
and  pictured  the  battleship  Maine  on  his  massive  breast. 
This  caused  Edgren  to  "leap  to  fame,"  as  the  biogra- 
phers say,  and  he  was  given  another  raise  in  salary.  By 
this  time  his  wages  were  large  enough  to  allow  pie  in 
the  bill  of  fare  at  least  once  a  day. 


66 


BATTLING   NELSON 


Bob  has  also  pictured  me  up  into  distinct  caricatures — 
"The  Wiskers  Punch"  and  "The  Wire  Hair." 

Bob  Edgren  is,  at  the  time  this  is  going  to  press,  hold- 
ing the  position  of  sporting  editor  and  cartoonist  on  the 
New  York  Evening  World  at  a  fat  salary.  He  is  now 
able  to  add,  not  only  pie,  but  all  the  delicacies  to  the 
bill  of  fare  from  soup  to  nuts. 


EDGREN.  OUTLINING     FITZ'S    FORM    ON    A    FRECKLE. 


gum  mutnuno«  of  MOW  tSnm  Sfwi  n«u  w  m  now**  or  rocui  ivra 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Champion  Knocks  Out  William  Rosser 

in  Two  Seconds,  the  Shortest 

Fight  on  Record. 

As  a  rule,  I  do  not  gamble  on  fights,  but  occasionally 
I  make  exceptions,  and  I  have  always  been  exceedingly 
fortunate  in  picking  winners.  This  is  due  largely  to  the 
fact  that  in  the  fights  in  which  Battling  Nelson  has  par- 
ticipated I  have  always  bet  on  myself. 

As  a  beginner,  however,  I  didn't  have  enough  money 
to  risk  on  the  result  of  my  ring  battles,  and  I  was  very 
well  satisfied  to  get  the  purse.  The  greater  part  of  my 
earnings  was  sent  to  my  mother,  and  I  had  very  little 
pocket  money  that  I  could  afford  to  lose. 

Shortly  after  I  had  licked  Cyclone  Johnny  Thompson, 
in  March,  1902,  I  began  to  take  on  a  lot  of  confidence, 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  put  down  a  bet  on 
myself  the  next  time  I  started,  if  a  good  chance  was 
offered  and  I  could  keep  my  mother  from  finding  it  out. 
It  came  quicker  than  I  expected. 

William  Rosser,  a  lightning  fast  young  lightweight, 
and  at  that  time  the  pride  of  West  Pullman,  and  a  boy 
who  had  been  defeating  every  Chicago  fighter  who  dared 
to  come  into  his  bailiwick,  sent  me  a  challenge  after  I 
had  stopped  the  Cyclone.  With  a  large  party  of  my 
Hegewisch  friends  and  backers  we  journeyed  over  to 

67 


68  BATTLING   NELSON 

Harvey   by   buses,   buggies,   automobiles   and    in   every 
manner  imaginable.    We  were  about  250  strong. 

MAKES  A  WILD  BET. 

About  a  week  previous  to  the  fight  while  training  at 
my  White  House  Club  at  home,  Frank  Reiger,  one  of 
those  talkative  fellows,  dropped  into  the  club  rooms  and 
asked  me  what  I  thought  of  my  chances  in  the  coming 
fight.  I  jokingly  said,  "Why,  I'll  knock  him  out  in  a 
round." 

Reiger,  who  had  been  continually  belittling  my  ability 
as  a  fighter,  at  once  offered  to  bet  me  $40,  to  $4,  or  $10  to 
$i,  that  I  wouldn't  knock  him  out  in  a  round.  I,  think- 
ing it  was  only  a  bunch  of  hot  air,  dug  down  in  my  jeans 
and  took  up  the  bet.  Reiger  immediately  appointed 
George  Wickham  as  stakeholder  and  handed  him  the  $40. 
Of  course,  I  put  up  my  four,  thinking  he  would  try  and 
crawl  out  of  the  bet  any  moment.  But  the  stakeholder 
forced  him  to  keep  his  coin  up. 

Now  that  the  bet  was  made  and  the  money  posted  it 
was  up  to  me  to  figure  out  ways  and  means  to  win  that 
fight  in  a  gallop. 

I  immediately  made  up  my  mind  to  get  that  one- 
round  money  if  I  never  fought  again.  I  notified  my 
backers  that  I  would  show  the  Harvey  sports  three  min- 
utes of  the  fastest  fighting  they  ever  saw  in  their  lives, 
if  Rosser  lasted  that  long. 

Having  that  forty  dollars  in  view  all  the  while,  I 
made  up  my  mind  that  I  wouldn't  allow  him  to  get  a 
start.  When  we  were  called  to  the  centre  of  the  ring 
for  instructions  I  had  the  scheme  figured  out.  Instead  of 
retiring  to  my  corner,  as  is  customary,  I  decided  to  take 
a  step  toward  his  corner. 

WORKED  LIKE  A  CHARM. 

The  trick  worked  like  a  charm.  As  the  timekeeper 
rang  the  bell  Rosser  raised  out  of  his  chair,  and  he  was 
just  within  nice  hitting  distance.  The  bell  had  not 


BATTLING   NELSON  69 

ceased  ringing  before  I  shot  a  terrific  right-hand  swing 
flush  on  his  jaw.  He  tottered  a  step  forward  and  fell  in 
the  centre  of  the  ring.  Rosser  tried  hard  to  get  up  and 
made  two  futile  efforts  to  rise,  but  only  got  to  arm's 
length,  and  by  the  time  the  referee  had  tolled  off  seven 
seconds  he  dropped  on  his  face  and  turned  over  on  his 
back  and  remained  for  the  full  count,  only  to  be  carried 
to  his  dressing  room  by  his  handlers. 

My  only  punch  was  so  well  directed  that  it  was  hours 
before  he  regained  consciousness.  This  is  the  shortest 
fight  on  record. 

Malachy  Hogan,  who  officiated  as  referee  in  the 
famous  Martin  Flaherty-Dai  Hawkins  fight  at  Carson 
City,  Nev.,  March  17,  1897,  which  lasted  four  sec- 
onds, also  officiated  in  our  fight.  He  makes  affidavit 
to  the  effect  that  our  contest  was  the  shorter  of  the  two. 

I  received  for  the  job  $50,  or  an  average  of  $25  a 
second. 

PRESENTED    WITH    GOLD    WATCH. 

The  following  day  I  was  presented  with  a  nice  solid 
gold  stop-watch  by  Billy  McLatchey  for  my  two-second 
knockout  of  Rosser. 

My  brother  "Art"  was  a  spectator,  although  a  mere 
kid.  It  being  very  late  in  the  evening  when  the  fight  took 
place  he  fell  asleep  on  the  benches  and  some  of  the  crowd 
suggested  to  him  that  he  stand  up  so  he  could  see  the 
fight.  "No,"  he  said  sleepily,  "I  had  better  sit  down  so 
that  I  can't  fall  off  the  bench  in  case  Bat  gets  hurt." 

"Art"  to-day  is  not  sure  that  he  saw  the  punch  that  put 
Rosser  out,  although  he  saw  him  fall  to  the  floor. 

The  following  day  I  collected  my  bet  of  $44  won 
from  "Noisy  Reiger."  He  is  to  this  day  being  chided 
by  the  bunch  around  Hegewisch  because  of  the  bet  he 
made  when  he  thought  he  had  a  cinch. 

That  was  by  far  the  most  satisfactory  bet  that  I  ever 
won. 


GLOVES   WORN   BY   BATTLING   NELSON   WHEN    HE   KNOCKED   OUT 
WILLIAM    ROSSER    IN    TWO    SECONDS     AT     HARVEY.     ILL. 


70 


BATTLING   NELSON  71 

PULLMAN   AGAIN   GETS  AMBITIOUS. 

At  this  time  it  began  to  look  as  if  those  Pullman  fel- 
lows were  never  going  to  get  enough.  I  had  hardly  got 
through  talking  about  the  quick  victory  over  Rosser 
when  a  young  fellow  named  Danny  McMahon,  of  Phila- 
delphia, whom  I  had  fought  before,  wanted  to  take  up 
Pullman's  fight,  and  I  had  to  hustle  over  there  and  meet 
him.  The  fight  ended  in  a  draw  and  that  was  the  closest 
I  came  to  losing  a  decision  in  the  town  which  loves  my 
native  Hegewisch  like  Battling  Nelson  loves  the  small- 
pox. 

This  was  giving  me  good  experience,  however,  and  as 
long  as  I  kept  winning  I  was  perfectly  willing  to  take  a 
chance. 

A  few  days  thereafter  I  was  sitting  on  the  front  steps 
of  our  home  in  Hegewisch  when  a  fellow  came  along  and 
asked  me  if  I  was  "Kid"  Nelson. 

"Some  call  me  'Kid'  and  some  call  me  'Battling.'"  J 
replied,  "I  guess  either  one  will  do." 

"And  you  think  you  are  some  fighter,  eh?"  he  asked 
in  a  sneering  way. 

"That's  just  about  the  size  of  it,"  I  came  back  at  him. 

"Well,"  he  answered.  "You  don't  look  so  good  to  me. 
I  think  I  can  lick  you  myself." 

"Vot,  you  dink  you  kin  leek  my  boy,  vot!"  My  old 
man  was  just  sticking  his  head  out  of  the  door  to  get  in 
the  argument. 

CHALLENGED  ON   MY  DOORSTEP. 

The  fellow  said  his  name  was  Pudden  Burns,  and  I 
found  that  he  was  a  citizen  of  Hegewisch  and  worked  at 
the  car  shops. 

"Go  and  get  some  money,"  I  told  him,  "and  then  we'll 
talk." 

He  reached  right  down  in  his  pocket  and  came  out 
with  a  roll. 

There  was  nothing  to  it.  I  had  another  fight  on  my 
hands. 


72  BATTLING  NELSON 

In  two  hours  the  whole  town  was  talking  about  the 
coming  bout,  and  we  arranged  to  have  the  mill  in  the 
Hegewisch  Opera  House,  a  block  from  my  home. 

This  fellow  Pudden  Burns  wanted  to  show  me  up 
right  in  my  home  town,  and  I  always  have  had  a  sneak- 
ing idea  that  the  Swedes  put  him  up  to  it.  They  didn't 
want  to  see  a  Dane  winning  all  the  glory. 

That  fellow  gave  me  a  tough  fight  of  it,  however,  and 
stayed  the  full  six  rounds,  though  I  mauled  him  all  over 
the  ring.  At  the  end  of  the  last  round  the  referee  gave 
me  the  decision  and  Pudden  didn't  kick.  He  said  he 
thought  that  I  had  won.  I  got  $75  for  turning,  this  trick, 
and  that  entitled  me  to  stay  a  few  more  days  at  home. 

By  this  time  my  father  had  given  up  all  idea  of  making 
me  stop  the  fighting  game  and  very  privately  one  day  he 
said:  "Go  ahead,  veen  de  champeenship!"  With  that 
to  urge  me  on  I  finally  made  good. 

As  a  matter  of  fact  I  think  my  start  for  the  cham- 
pionship began  that  week.  I  went  over  into  Indiana 
again  and  was  jobbed  out  of  a  decision  when  I  met  Billy 
Hurley  at  Hammond.  The  referee  called  the  bout  a 
draw,  and  the  affair  came  near  winding  up  in  a  free  for 
all  fight. 

LOST  CONFIDENCE  IN  OFFICIALS. 

I  was  losing  confidence  in  the  honesty  of  officials  and 
I  decided  to  quit  that  part  of  the  country  entirely  and 
seek  a  new  field. 

It  was  during  the  early  part  of  July,  1902,  when  I 
packed  up  my  fighting  togs,  bundled  up  my  Spalding 
fighting  shoes,  and,  after  bidding  the  folks  good-bye  at 
home,  I  hiked  over  to  the  freight  yards  and  a  few  min- 
utes was  cozily  settled  beneath  the  body  of  a  big  freight 
car  which  was  tagged  for  the  South.  I  had  heard  many 
yarns  about  the  hot  sports  of  Hot  Springs,  and  thought 
there  was  a  good  chance  for  me  to  get  on  in  a  few  bouts 
during  the  big  season.  Then,  the  curative  properties 
of  the  water,  I  figured,  would  do  much  to  build  me  up 
and  make  me  strong. 


BATTLING   NELSON  73 

After  several  days  of  hunger  and  other  hardships  I 
found  myself  rudely  thrown  out  from  under  the  car, 
and  there  I  was  at  last,  safe  and  sound,  in  the  Springs 
of  good  old  Arkansaw. 

FAMOUS   EXPERT   EXAMINES   FIGHTER  FOR 
THE  TRAVELER. 

BY   JOHN    R.    ROBINSON. 

Wallop  Battling  Nelson  in  the  stomach,  hard  and 
swift.  Then  follow  it  by  another  wallop  in  the  same 
place.  And  according  to  the  dope,  you're  lightweight 
champion  of  the  world. 

You  can  hit  Nelson  on  the  jaw  as  long  as  you  want, 
and  the  only  thing  that  you'll  hurt  is  your  hands.  You 
can  hit  him  over  the  kidneys,  on  the  ears,  on  the  nose, 
blacken  both  eyes  and  pound  his  chest  to  a  frazzle,  and 
he'll  still  grin  through  the  blood  and  come  back  for 
more. 

This  is  no  opinion  of  mine.  I've  boxed  and  wrestled 
with  the  wonderful  Danish  fighting  machine,  have  pulled 
him  to  the  floor  and  jumped  on  him,  have  battered  his 
head  against  the  walls  of  the  gymnasium  until  my  arms 
were  sore,  and  the  only  thing  I  ever  found  out  was  that 
I  got  tired  quicker  than  he  did,  and  wanted  to  rest  after 
the  exercises  and  watch  Nelson  go  through  the  same 
course  with  another  willing  man. 

"Some  people  say  I'm  not  human,"  said  Nelson  re- 
cently in  Boston.  "Joe  Cans  and  Jack  London  have 
called  me  funny  names,  but  still  that  real  estate  of  mine 
keeps  on  increasing  in  value.  And  now  I  want  to  find 
out  if  I  really  am  like  other  people,  both  in  mind  and 
body.  I  want  you  to  take  me  to  Dr.  Sargent  at  Har- 
vard, and  have  him  settle  the  question." 

DR.    SARGENT  WELL  QUALIFIED   FOR  WORK. 

This  was  ten  days  ago,  and  in  the  meantime  Dr.  Sar- 
gent has  prepared  charts  and  made  his  deductions.  And 


74 


BATTLING   NELSON 


Battling  Nelson  a  Perfectly  Developed  Man, 
Both  Physically  and  Mentally, 

Dr.  Sargent's  Report  on  Nelson 
A  Human  Battering  Ram. 

NELSON  AND  POINTS  OF  STRENGTH 


BATTLING   NELSON  75 

The  Traveler  is  fortunate  enough  to  be  able  to  present 
exclusively  to  its  readers  the  opinions  of  the  greatest 
physical  culture  expert  in  the  world. 

Just  a  few  words  about  Dr.  Sargent.  He  is  so  well 
known  that  the  average  reader  does  not  need  this  infor- 
mation, but  for  those  who  are  not  acquainted  with  him, 
it  may  be  well  to  say  that  he  has  examined  some  of  the 
greatest  pugilists  of  modern  times,  and  has  spent  a  life- 
time in  the  study  of  the  human  body.  Starting  with  his 
medical  degree,  he  had  the  real  foundation  upon  which 
to  work  to  advise  others  their  weak  and  strong  physi- 
cal points,  and  his  many  years'  experience  with  his  own 
physical  culture  institution  at  Cambridge  and  in  the 
Hemimingway  gymnasium  have  fitted  him  to  talk  ex- 
pertly on  Nelson  as  a  fighter  and  a  man. 

We  were  sent  to  the  Hemenway  gymnasium  by  Dr. 
Sargent,  and  Nelson  was  ordered  to  undress.  First  his 
lungs  were  tested,  then  his  grip,  then  his  lifting,  pulling 
and  pushing  power.  Then  the  doctor  took  hold  of  him 
and  started  him  through  a  course  of  exercises,  stopping 
him  every  few  moments  to  examine  his  heart,  lungs 
and  other  portion  of  his  anatomy. 

"Nelson  has  the  best  heart  and  lungs  I  have  ever  ex- 
amined," said  the  doctor.  "Take  the  same  care  of  your- 
self in  the  future  as  you  have  in  the  past,  and  you'll  be 
champion  for  many  years  to  come." 

NELSON'S  BRAIN  is  OF  NORMAL  SIZE. 

Here  is  what  Dr.  Sargent  said  of  the  fighter  after  his 
examination.  It  shows  wherein  the  Dane  excels  all  other 
men  for  his  own  profession : 

"I  find  that  Nelson  is  a  very  intelligent  man,"  said 
Dr.  Sargent.  "His  brain  is  of  normal  size — there  is 
nothing  extraordinary  about  it,  except  that  he  can  think 
quicker  and  act  faster  than  most  persons. 

"His  heart,  a  most  essential  organ  to  be  in  perfect 
condition  for  a  professional  athlete,  is  a  most  extraordi- 
nary organ.  It  is  about  normal  in  size  and  beats  very 


76  BATTLING   NELSON 

regularly.  I  find  that  it  beats  perfectly  before  exercise 
and  during  exertion  increases  a  very  little.  After  exer- 
tion it  returns  very  quickly  to  its  regular  beat  again. 

"This  is  very  uncommon.  A  man  who  takes  the  exer- 
cise that  all  professional  boxers  should  and  do  take  regu- 
larly has,  as  a  rule,  a  very  irregular  heart.  But  Nel- 
son's heart  does  not  show  this  weakness.  He  can  go  into 
the  ring  with  his  regular  heart  beat,  fight  a  hard  three- 
minute  round  and  his  heart  will  beat  faster.  But  when 
he  takes  his  corner  and  rests  for  a  minute  he  is  in  the 
same  condition  as  before  he  started. 

"Nelson  is  a  chap  who  is  not  easily  excited.  It  takes 
more  than  a  good  strong  blow  to  make  him  mad.  I  be- 
lieve he  could  do  almost  anything,  under  almost  any 
circumstances,  and  still  keep  his  head.  This  may  be 
attributed  to  his  heart  and  also  to  the  fact  that  he  has 
trained  his  mind  to  obey  the  orders  of  his  brain. 

"His  lungs  are  normal  and  perfect.  He  is  a  man  who 
breathes  with  the  long,  deep  breath  which  I  advise  all 
persons  to  use.  His  lungs  are  just  right  for  a  man  of 
his  weight,  age  and  build,  and  capable  of  taking  a  good 
hard  punch.  This  is  a  very  good  point  in  a  fighter — 
you  could  strike  him  in  the  chest  and  knock  out  part  of 
his  wind,  and  he  could  come  back  in  a  few  seconds  after 
recovering  from  the  shock  with  the  remaining  wind  in 
his  lungs,  and  keep  on  fighting  until  the  lungs  were  well 
filled  again. 

"His  chest  is  good.  He  has  a  fine  expansion — far 
greater  than  many  heavyweights  I  have  examined.  This 
alone  is  due  to  constant  exercise  and  the  fact  that  Nelson 
never  used  tobacco  or  liquor  in  any  form.  He  has  a 
thick,  strong  set  of  ribs,  and  I  find  they  are  abnormally 
wide,  thus  forming  almost  an  armor  plate  around  his 
body. 

JAW   IMPERVIOUS  TO  PUNISHMENT. 

"Nelson's  jaw  puzzled  me  more  than  any  other  part 
of  his  anatomy.  You  can  catch  him  a  good  hard  upper- 
cut  on  the  point  of  the  jaw,  and  you  get  no  response. 


BATTLING   NELSON  77 

I  do  not  think  any  man  of  Nelson's  weight  and  inches 
could  hit  the  young  Dane  hard  enough  on  the  jaw  to 
even  make  him  feel  dazed. 

Nelson  is  a  well  developed  man,  and  keeps  himself  in 
constant  training,  whether  he  is  preparing  for  a  battle 
or  resting  between  his  engagements.  He  breathes  deeply, 
takes  a  good  long  walk  and  uses  every  muscle  in  his  body 
when  he  gets  to  work.  It  is  not  a  case  of  strength  with 
him,  but  of  endurance,  and  I  think  he  could  last  for  any 
length  of  time  in  a  battle  regardless  of  how  strong  or 
fast  his  opponent  was. 

"Nelson  recuperates  very  quickly.  This  is  because  he 
is  not  easily  excited.  A  man  might  send  him  to  the  floor 
for  the  count  of  six  or  seven,  but  he  would  still 
realize  his  position,  and  he  would  be  ready  to 
continue  the  fight  far  within  the  time  limit  of  ten  seconds. 
He  acts  very  quickly  both  during  exercise  and  when 
talking  with  a  person.  If  he  were  in  the  corner  of  the 
room  and  you  would  mention  his  name  he  would  jump. 
He  is  exceptionally  quick  moving  on  his  feet,  and  with 
his  hands.  He  has  smaller  hands  and  feet  than  the  aver- 
age person,  but  that  is  no  odd  characteristic.  His  hands, 
I  find,  are  very  strong  and  well  rounded.  He  can  double 
his  fist  quicker  than  any  man  I  ever  saw,  and  this  should 
enable  him  to  do  better  execution  in  hitting  than  the 
ordinary  pugilist  can  do. 

SHOULD   MAKE  A  GREAT  RUNNER. 

"His  endurance  is  wonderful.  He  would  make  a  good 
long-distance  runner,  as  he  can  last  a  long  time  through 
the  hardest  ordeal.  He  should  be  able  to  run  for  hours 
and  still  be  fresh,  just  as  he  is  able  to  fight  for  forty- 
two  rounds  and  be  strong  at  the  finish.  He  swings  his 
arms  at  all  times  and  keeps  moving  his  body,  so  that 
the  average  person  might  think  him  nervous.  This  is  not 
so — Nelson  methodically  goes  through  these  motions  to 
aid  in  his  plan  of  perfect  health.  His  body  is  hard,  his 


78  BATTLING   NELSON 

skin  is  thick,  and  his  neck  able  to  stand  almost  any  kind 
of  a  blow. 

"If  he  continues  to  live  as  he  has  during  the  past 
five  or  six  years,  he  should  reach  a  remarkable  age.  I 
would  not  dare  to  say  how  long  he  would  live,  but  he 
should  still  be  a  vigorous  man  at  the  age  of  three  score 
years  and  ten. 

"Nelson  worries  but  little.  Worrying  has  killed  many 
a  good  man,  but  this  young  fighter  takes  things  as  they 
come,  and  does  not  look  into  the  future  with  any  degree 
of  doubt.  He  is  generally  happy  and  smiles  a  great  deal 
— indeed,  during  the  examination  he  was  very  much  in 
earnest,  but  still  he  kept  chaffing  his  companion  and  tell- 
ing me  funny  stories. 

On  the  eve  of  a  battle  I  do  not  think  he  likes  to  talk 
of  what  is  coming,  but  prefers  to  sit  by  himself  and  wait, 
Talking  of  what  is  to  come  might  get  him  excited  a 
little,  but  it  would  not  worry  him  in  the  least.  He  simply 
awaits  the  day  of  the  fight  and  goes  into  the  ring  without 
a  single  thing  on  his  mind.  He  fights  better  as  a  result. 
The  man  who  goes  into  the  ring  worrying  does  not  have 
his  mind  on  the  fight,  and  he  gets  scared  when  his  oppo- 
nent makes  a  pass.  But  Nelson  waits  for  something  to 
happen,  and  then  he  acts  accordingly.  Then  he  maps  out 
his  own  campaign  in  his  calm,  methodical  way. 

ALL    IN    ALL,    A    WONDERFUL    MAN. 

"Taking  him  all  in  all,  he  is  a  wonderfully  built  man. 
His  hips  are  small,  and  his  legs  are  also  small.  His 
chest  and  arms  are  those  of  a  man  of  150  pounds,  and 
his  legs,  hips  and  stomach  those  of  a  man  of  130.  He  is 
not  perfectly ;  built,  according  to  our  modern  statue,  but 
nevertheless  many  of  his  measurements  correspond  pro- 
portionately to  those  which  the  early  Greeks  decided 
were  the  perfect  model  of  symmetry.  He  is  built  just 
right  for  his  profession,  and  any  years  that  he  spent  out- 
side of  the  prize  ring  were  wasted." 

This  ended  Dr.  Sargent's  interview,  and  I  do  not  see 


BATTLIXG   NELSON  79 

where  anything  can  be  added  to  it.  Nelson  is  human — 
that  is  a  certainty — I  never  saw  him  refuse  a  man  a  dol- 
lar when  the  asker  was  in  need.  He  supports  his  family 
and  lives  well  himself,  and  keeps  his  friends  who  are  true 
to  him.  That's  human,  and  if  he  looks  like  a  fiend  to 
Joe  Cans  in  the  ring  I  can  excuse  Joe.  Imagine  how 
you'd  like  to  be  in  Joe's  place  yourself. — From  Boston 
Traveler,  Nov.  13,  1908. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Bat  Takes  $3  Job  as  Waiter  and  Whips 
Six  Foot  Manager. 


of-  vwHEAT  «>      1 


After  I  had  been  kicked  off  the 
train  at  Hot  Springs  the  first 
thing  I  had  to  think  about  was 
something  to  eat.  I  didn't  have  a 
cent,  and  the  best  I  could  do  in  the 
way  of  clothes  was  one  tattered 
suit — the"  old  $12.50  boy — that  I 
had  bought  up  in  Wisconsin.  It 
was  up  to  me  to  get  busy,  so  I 
went  out  looking  for  a  job.  In 
front  of  a  restaurant  I  saw  a 
"Waiter  Wanted"  sign  and  I  went 
in  and  applied  for  the  job.  The 
manager  offered  me  $3  a  week 
and  my  board.  It  was  a  good 
chance  to  get  fed,  so  I  accepted 
on  the  spot  and  went  downstairs 
to  wash  up. 

This  restaurant  was  called  the  "Ironside,"  and  I  after- 
ward learned  that  it  got  the  name  from  the  tough  steaks 
which  were  served  at  15  cents  a  throw.  It  was  a  regu- 
lar hash-slinging  joint  and  I  knew  there  was  no 
chance  for  tips.  The  fellows  who  ate  there  were 
lucky  to  have  the  15  cents  which  was  the  price  of  a 
regular  meal. 

ACCUSED  OF   STEALING   FIFTEEN    CENTS. 

It  was  in  this  restaurant  while  working  as  a  waiter 
that  I  had  one  of  the  liveliest  fights  in  my  career, 
and  it  wasn't  in  the  ring  either. 

On   the    fourth    day    I    was    accused  -of    stealing    15 

80 


BATTLING   NELSON  81 

0 

cents,  and  it  made  me  awful  sore,  for  I  was  innocent. 
I  had  a  lot  of  harsh  words  with  my  accuser,  who  it 
seems  was  a  deputy  sheriff  as  well  as  owner  of  the 
restaurant.  'He  went  away,  but  came  back  in  a  few 
minutes  and  told  me  that  he  had  found  out  that  I  was 
innocent  and  he  apologized. 

I  was  just  getting  ready  to  leave  the  place,  and  he 
asked  me  what  was  the  trouble. 

"Why,  the  manager  refuses  to  give  me  my  $3  pay 
that  he  promised,"  I  replied.  "He  thinks  that  my 
board  is  enough." 

The  sheriff  told  me  to  go  back  to  work  and  he 
would  see  that  I  got  paid.  So  I  went  back  on  the 
job. 

On  the  next  day  the  manager  had  told  me  to  put 
some  ice  in  the  cellar,  but  just  as  the  ice  man  came 
in  two  customers  dropped  in,  and  I  had  to  wait  on 
them.  The  manager,  whose  name  was  Bill  Ashton, 
was  in  a  rage  when  he  came  back,  and  he  began  to 
abuse  me  about  the  ice.  I  explained  that  I  had  to 
wait  on  the  only  two  customers  of  the  day,  and,  in- 
cidentally, I  said  something  about  the  business  being 
bad.  This  made  him  worse,  and  he  began  to  curse 
me  awfully.  Finally  I  told  him  to  stop,  as  I  wouldn't 
stand  for  being  called  all  those  names. 

WHIPS    RESTAURANT    MANAGER. 

Ashton  was  over  six  feet  tall,  and  he  made  a  furious 
lunge  at  me  with  his  fist.  I  stepped  aside,  and  peeled 
him  a  beaut  on  the  jaw.  The  blow  knocked  him  flat, 
but  he  came  up  with  a  catsup  bottle  in  his  hand  and 
made  for  me.  I  caught  the  bottle  and  took  it  away 
from  him,  and  walloped  him  in  the  jaw.  He  tried 
more  bottles,  but  he  couldn't  get  a  chance  to  use 
them.  Finally  he  picked  up  a  four  gallon  milk 
pitcher,  which  he  slung  at  me.  I  ducked  it  nicely, 
and  it  hit  the  table  where  two  customers  sat,  and 
gave  them  the  first  bath  they  had  had  in  a  week. 


82  BATTLING   NELSON 

% 
• 

When    it   comes    to   the    milk   bath    thing   Anna    Held 
never  had  anything  on  them. 

Again  Ashton  tried  to  kill  me  with  a  bottle,  and 
this  time  I  decided  to  get  busy  myself.  I  jerked  the 
bottle  out  of  his  hand  and  tapped  him  on  his  bald 
head. 

"I  hate  to  do  this,  old  fellow,"  1  said,  as  we  were 
both  panting.  "But  I  need  the  money."  Down  he 
went  in  a  heap. 

I  was  getting  on  my  coat,  preparing  to  leave,  when 
the  owner  came  in  and  had  us  both  arrested.  He  told 
me  to  go  back  to  work  and  he  would  pay  me  my  $3. 
I  did  so.  The  next  morning  in  court  the  judge 
wouldn't  believe  that  I  had  licked  that  big  six-foot 
man.  After  hearing  the  evidence,  however,  he  turned 
me  loose  and  fined  the  manager  $5. 

GETS    INTO    GYMNASIUM. 

I  continued  to  work  as  waiter  at  the  springs  for 
the  reason  that  if  I  didn't  I  would  have  starved  to 
death. 

I  put  in  my  spare  time  around  the  several  gym- 
nasiums located  in  the  bathhouses  and  was  in  pretty 
nice  shape  when  things  got  going.  I  wanted  to  give 
the  visitors  a  line  on  my  ability,  and  many  a  hard 
bout  did  I  box  around  the  baths — just  to  keep  me  in 
shape.  I  didn't  care  how  big  the  fellow  was,  I  was 
there  with  the  gloves  ready  at  all  times. 

After  knocking  out  a  couple  of  real  fresh  scrappers 
who  thought  they  were  the  whole  works,  I  got  to  be 
the  talk  of  the  town. 

The  knockout  of  one  of  these  fresh  young  fellows, 
by  the  way,  was  really  responsible  for  my  giving  up 
m7  $3  J°b  as  a  waiter.  Billy  Maurice,  of  the  Maurice 
bath,  had  kindly  consented  to  let  me  train  in  the 
gymnasium  connected  with  his  place,  and  I  was  work- 
ing hard  to  get  in  shape.  One  day  a  big  fellow  named 
Wagner  came  in  and  began  punching  at  a  bag.  He 


BATTLING   NELSON  83 

was  a  middleweight  in  size.  Quite  a  crowd  of  rich 
sports  came  in  with  him,  and  began  talking  about  his 
ability  as  a  boxer. 

"Say,  Kid,"  he  said  to  me,  "how  would  you  like  to 
box  a  little  while  for  exercise?" 

I  looked  up  at  him,  and  he  saw  that  I  was  sizing 
him  up.  I  shook  my  head  a  little  as  if  thinking  him 
too  big. 


•THE  SI-MHO-  SNOW  rw 

T* 
BLOW,  TJ-UT  NEVER  T!-»fc  l*X* 

me. 

0*4 


BAT'S  OFFICE.  HEGFWISCH.  ILL. 


"Oh,  I  won't  hurt  you,"  he  said.  "I  will  only  spar. 
Come  on  and  let's  have  some  fun." 

"All  right,"  I  finally  said,  and  the  rich  fellows  gath- 
ered around  to  have  some  fun  at  my  expense. 

We  had  boxed  along  nicely  for  a  couple  of  rounds 
and  the  big  man,  who  I  afterward  learned  was  a  rich 
young  amateur,  was  getting  the  best  of  it. 

"You  are  doing  fine,"  the  crowd  said  to  him. 

He  made  a  couple  of  light  passes  at  me  and  one  of 
them  landed. 

"Now  watch  me  hand  this  fellow  something,"'  he 


84  BATTLING  NELSON 

whispered  to  his  friends  and  winked.  I  didn't  hear  the 
words,  but  I  knew  what  he  meant  by  his  actions. 

All  of  a  sudden  he  made  a  wild  swing  at  me.  If  it 
had  landed  it  would  have  taken  off  the  top  of  my 
head.  I  ducked  it,  however,  as  he  lunged  forward 
with  the  force  of  his  blow  I  drove  a  right-hand  swing 
plump  on  his  jaw  with  all  the  force  I  could  put  into 
it.  He  almost  turned  a  flip-flop,  and  it  was  ten  min- 
utes before  they  could  bring  him  around. 

I  didn't  know  then  that  he  was  a  swell  guy,  but  I 
went  right  up  to  him  and  told  him  something. 

RICH    MAN    APOLOGIZES. 

"I  didn't  want  to  do  that,"I  said,  "but  you  thought 
you  had  a  little  kid  to  deal  with,  and  you  tried  to 
knock  his  head  off  just  to  show  him  up  before  your 
friends.  I  simply  gave  you  a  little  of  your  own  medi- 
cine, that's  all." 

"You  are  all  right,  kid,"  he  replied.  "I  did  try  to  do 
you  a  mean  trick,  and  I  want  to  apologize." 

The  sports  gathered  around  and  made  up  a  little 
purse  for  me.  They  told  me  that  I  could  give  up  my 
job  as  waiter,  and  that  they  would  stake  me  to  a  good 
fight  later  on.  Thereupon,  I  resigned  as  waiter  at  the 
Old  Ironside  restaurant. 

COLONEL  ANDY  MULLIGAN  TO  HIS  AID. 

Col.  Andy  Mulligan  heard  of  me  through  those 
gentlemen,  and  seemed  much  taken  up  with  my  style 
and  grit.  He  was  running  the  Vapor  City  Athletic 
Club  then,  which  was  located  at  WJiittington  Park. 

His  friend,  Jack  Frisby,  had  a  fighter  working  for 
him  as  head  waiter,  and  the  latter  thought  he  could 
stop  me  without  much  trouble.  A  few  days  after 
meeting  Mulligan  and  Frisby,  his  head  waiter,  Elmer 
Mayfield,  hurled  a  challenge  at  me.  I  jumped  at  the 
proposition  and  accepted  on  a  second's  notice.  I 


BATTLING   NELSON  85 

wanted  him  to  go  twenty  or  twenty-five  rounds,  but 
he  positively  refused  to  box  unless  I  agreed  to  ten 
rounds. 

It  was  indeed  a  lucky  thing  for  him  that  he  had 
stipulated  the  ten-round  go,  as  I  was  getting  to  him 
hard  during  the  last  three  rounds  of  the  battle.  We 
fought  at  catchweights,  Mayfield  weighing  142  while 
I  weighed  but  130.  However,  the  aggressive,  game, 
slugging  fight  which  I  put  up  immediately  won  for 
me  hundreds  of  friends  at  the  Springs. 

The  sports  wanted  to  see  more  of  me,  and  ever 
since  that  day  the  residents  of  the  Garden  City  have 
claimed  Battling  Nelson  as  their  own  product. 

My  next  opponent  in  the  South  was  a  negro,— 
Christy  Williams.  His  engagement  with  me  is  men- 
tioned under  a  special  chapter  which  is  devoted  ex- 
clusively to  the  members  of  the  colored  race  whom 
I  defeated  mostly  by  the  knock-out  route.  No  black 
man  ever  defeated  me. 

In  a  few  words,  however,  I  might  add  that  I 
knocked  Negro  Williams  cold  in  the  seventeenth 
round. 

This  splendid  victory  concluded  my  busy  season 
of  1902. 


Story  Written  for  New  York  World  and 
Published  July  12th,  1908. 


SYNOPSIS  OF   THE  LIGHTWEIGHT  CHAMPION. 

BY  BAT, 

Lightweight  Champion   of  the  World. 

I  am  content.  At  last  I  am 
recognized  as  the  only  real  live 
champion  lightweight  fighter  in 
the  world.  I  have  long  known 
that  I  could  beat  any  man  in  the 
ring  at  my  weight,  but  I  have 
had  a  hard  time  convincing  the 
public  at  large  of  my  ability. 
Now  that  I  have  shown  them  by 
decisively  beating  Joe  Cans,  I 
have  accomplished  my  one  great 
ambition  in  life,  and  in  doing  so 
I  have  collected  so  much  of  the 

so-called  "root  of  all  evil"  that  I 

BAT.  "   don't  know  how  to  get  rid  of  it 

without  disturbing  the  peace.  I  have  not  been  foolish 
with  my  money,  like  some  former  champions,  but 
have  invested  it  wisely,  and  today  I  would  not  sell  all 
of  the  property  that  I  have  for  a  quarter  of  a  million 
dollars. 

When  I  was  quite  a  youngster  I  read  of  the  cham- 
pionship fight  between  Jim  Corbett  and  John  L.  Sul- 
livan, in  1892.  It  was  the  first  championship  battle 
I  had  ever  heard  about,  and  I  remember  that  the 
article  said  that  the  people  followed  Corbett  about  on 
the  streets.  I  thought  at  the  time  that  that  was  as 
great  as  a  man  could  get,  and  I  became  fired  with  the 
ambition  to  be  like  Corbett.  Now  I  have  my  wish. 
When  I  went  out  to  the  battleship  U.  S.  S.  Ohio  to* 


BATTLING   NELSON 


87 


A    BOXING    BOL'T   ON   THE   U.    S.    S.    OHIO    WHILE    ANCHORED    IN 
SAX    FRANCISCO   HARBOR.    SEPTEMBER    1.    1908- 


88  BATTLING   NELSON 

pay  the  boys  a  visit,  which  was  anchored  in  San  Fran- 
cisco Bay,  on  their  tour  around  the  world  under  Rear 
Admiral  Bob  Evans,  the  other  day  hundreds  of  small 
boys  followed  me  along  the  water  front  and  cheered 
me. 

"There  is  the  new  champion,"  they  cried,  and  -I 
could  not  help  getting  wider  around  the  chest  when 
the  leader  of  the  gang  yelled:  "He's  a  fighter  from 
Fightersville." 

WOULD  RATHER  FIGHT  THAN   EAT. 

I  guess  that  kid  was  right.  I'd  rather  fight  than 
eat.  That's  the  secret  of  my  success.  I  have  lost 
several  fights,  but  have  never  been  beaten.  Sounds 
rather  paradoxical,  doesn't  it?  -  But  it's  true,  just  the 
same.  The  reason  for  my  "defeats"  is  that  I  am  not 
a  "short  distance"  or  "parlor"  boxer.  I  believe  that 
all  fights  should  be  to  a  finish  to  determine  which  is 
the  better  man, — this  is  called  the  "Battler's  Route." 
Everything  that  fights  keeps  on  till  it  wins,  is  beaten 
or  has  enough.  By  beaten  I  mean  unable  to  continue. 
I  have  never  yet  been  placed  in  the  situation  where 
I  was  unable  to  continue  or  where  I  had  enough,  and 
in  all  of  the  battles  that  have  been  decided  against  me 
I  am  morally  certain  that  I  would  have  stopped  my 
opponent  if  the  contests  had  been  longer.  Therefore 
I  do  not  consider  that  I  have  ever  met  my  master  in 
the  fighting  game. 

I  have  always  felt  that  I  would  be  the  greatest 
fighter  in  my  class.  It  is  in-  the  stars,  and,  although 
I  am  not  superstitious,  I  can't  help  believing  that  I 
was  ordained  to  be  a  successful  fighter.  This  is  how 
I  figure  it  out:  I  was  born  on  June  5,  1882,  in  Copen- 
hagen, Denmark.  Nothing  very  remarkable  about 
that,  say  you?  Well,  hold  on  a  minute;  June  5  is  the 
Danish  Independence  Day,  and  you  must  remember 
that  I  beat  the  heretofore  unconquerable  Cans  on 
July  4,  Uncle  Sam's  Independence  Day.  Kind  of  a 


BATTLING   NELSON  89 

coincidence,  isn't  it?  Of  course  nations  do  not  obtain 
absolute  independence  unless  they  fight  for  it  and  win, 
and  from  the  fact  that  the  independence  days  of  two 
nations  are  such  important  dates  in  my  career  I  be- 
lieve I  am  justified  in  thinking  as  I  do. 

WAS  BORN   FIGHTING. 

Although  I  was  born  in  Denmark  I  am  a  full- 
fledged  American,  for  I  was  brought  to  this  country 
when  I  was  less  than  a  year  old.  My  father,  Nels 
Nelson,  declares  that  I  was  born  fighting  and  have 
been  fighting  ever  since,  and  I  guess  he  is  about  right. 
That's  why  he  named  me  Battling.  My  mother, 
Mary  Nelson,  tacked  the  two  other  handles  to  my 
surname,  so  I  have  to  go  about  wrapped  up  in  the  dis- 
guise of  Oscar  Battling  Matthew  Nelson  when  I  at- 
tend social  functions. 

From  my  elongated  name  I'd  assume  that  I  was  an 
heiress-seeking  nobleman  if  I  didn't  know  differently. 

I  have  six  brothers  and  a  sister.  Al  is  a  machinist 
in  the  North  Western  shops  in  Chicago;  Henry  is  a 
blacksmith;  Johnny  a  moulder;  Charley  is  a  junior  at 
the  University  of  California  and  is  studying  to  be  a 
doctor,  but  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  he  should  turn 
out  to  be  a  preacher;  Art  is  a  motorcycle  racer  and 
recently  rode  a  mile  and  a  quarter  in  a  minute.  My 
youngest  brother,  Harry,  is  the  smartest  kid  of  them 
all.  At  present  he  is  attending  the  Boys'  School  at 
Quincy,  111,  but  he  is  inclined  to  be  a  bit  scrappy.  My 
sister,  Ida,  is  living  with  the  folks  at  Hegewisch,  my 
home  town.  Now  you  know  all  about  the  whole  Nel- 
son family. 

ALWAYS   STUDIED   HARD. 

I  went  to  school  off  and  on  until   I  was  sixteen 


90 


BATTLING   NELSON 


years  of  age,  but  I  was  always  getting  into  trouble 
and  being  suspended  for  fight- 
ing. My  teachers  always  de- 
clared that  I  was  living  up  to 
my  name  as  a  battler.  I  studied 
for  all  I  was  worth,  and  I  don't 
think  that  I  was  so  bad.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  I  had  all  of  the 
other  kids  in  my  class  beaten  to 
a  frazzle  when  it  came  to  mathe- 
matics. I  remember  the  first 
examination  I  ever  took  in  alge- 
bra. It  was  a  tough  exam.,  but 
yours  truly  was  able  to  deliver 
the  goods,  and  I  got  100  per 
cent.  Can  you  beat  that? 

In  the  pugilistic  game  I've 
had  a  hard  uphill  fight  to  make. 
I  was  fourteen  years  old  when  I 
got  my  first  professional  match.  I  was  to  have  fought 
for  a  dollar,  but  instead  of  getting  it  the  crowd  that  I  was 
among  stole  my  clothes.  The  first  fellow  that  I  ever 
beat  was  Wallace's  Unknown.  We  fought  in  Ham- 
mond, Ind.,  on  Sept.  3,  1896,  and  I  knocked  him  out 
in  the  first  round.  I  was  working  for  the  G.  H.  Ham- 
mond Packing  Co.  learning  to  be  a  butcher.  After 
that  I  fought  around  in  the  Middle  West  for  collec- 
tions, and  later  I  got  before  legitimate  clubs  and 
fought  for  purses  of  $10,  $15  and  $25.  Whenever  I 
fought  for  a  purse  of  $25,  I  sent  $15  of  it  home  to  my 
mother. 

"JUST  NATURALLY"  BECAME  A  FIGHTER. 

How  did  I  come  to  get  into  the  fighting  game? 
Well,  I  just  naturally  drifted  into  it.  You  see,  when 
I  was  young  I  was  not  noted  for  having  a  particularly 
pacific  disposition,  and  all  of  the  kids  in  my  set  had 
a  wholesome  respect  for  me. 


BATTLING   NELSON  91 

Though  the  public  regarded  me  as  pretty  much  of 
a  prize  ring  joke  when  I  began  my  fighting  career,  I 
made  up  my  mind  that  I  wanted  records  that  no  one 
could  beat.  I've  got  them.  I  have  the  record  of  the 
quickest  knockout  ever  landed.  It  happened  before 
the  William  McLatchy  Club  in  Harvey,  III.,  on  April 
5,  1902,  when  I  knocked  out  William  Rosser  in  two 
seconds  after  the  bell  rang  for  the  beginning  of  the 
first  round.  Nobody  ever  beat  that  record,  and  I 
don't  think  anybody  ever  will.  Malachy  Hogan,  the 
well  known  referee  of  Chicago,  officiated  as  third  man 
in  the  ring. 

A  peculiar  thing  about  all  of  the  men  that  I  have 
fought  is  that  all  of  them  are  now  in  the  pugilistic 
discard,  although  they  were  at  tkeir  best  when  I  met 
them.  The  beginning  of  their  backsliding  dates  from 
their  fights  with  me.  Even  the  great  Cans  "went 
back"  after  his  first  battle  with  me,  but  nobody  knew 
it  except  myself. 

GREATEST   DISSIPATION    IS   DANCING. 

After  my  fight  with  Cans  I  think  I'll  settle  down. 
I  have  no  bad  habits,  and  my  only  dissipation,  if  it 
may  be  termed  thus,  is  dancing.  Next  to  fighting, 
I'd  rather  dance  than  do  anything  else.  And  after 
dancing  comes  hunting.  I've  had  my  fun  at  all  three, 
and  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  pick  out  some  nice 
girl,  if  I  can  find  one  that'll  have  me,  get  married, 
and  lead  the  simple  life.  I've  got  lots  of  friends  of 
the  gentle  sex  throughout  the  country,  and  I  have 
seen  several  that  I  would  be  willing  to  make  my  wife. 
However,  I'm  not  a  Mormon,  so  I'll  have  to  select 
only  one.  When  I  find  h.er  I'll  retire  from  the  ring 
for  good. 

There  is  practically  no  one  left  for  me  to  fight  after 
I  get  through  with  Cans.  Hence  it  appears  that  there 
are  few  battles  ahead  of  me,  and  there  do  not  appear 
to  be  any  men  who  will  come  up.  I'm  going  to  be 


SIX  OF  AMERICA'S  FOREMOST   REFEREES. 
92 


BATTLING   NELSON  93 

from  Missouri  when  I  make  a  match  hereafter,  and 
now  that  I  have  landed  I'm  going  to  enjoy  myself. 
I  have  eighty  acres  of  vineyard  at  Livermore,  about 
forty  miles  west  of  San  Francisco,  in  Alameda  county. 
I  own  considerable  property  in  Hegewisch  and 
Streater',  111. ;  and  Cleveland,  Ohio.  Own  some  mining 
property  in  Nevada,  and  a  32o-acre  ranch  at  O-Bar, 
New  Mexico,  as  well  as  some  of  the  best  corner  lots 
in  town. 

I  want  to  say  this  to  the  boys  who  will  read  my 
story :  I  have  never  smoked,  chewed  or  drank  in  my 
life,  and  I  never  intend  to.  I  have  fought  nearly  100 
battles  in  the  roped  arena  during  my  career  as  a  prize 
fighter,  and  I  am  proud  to  say  that  every  one  of  them  was 
on  the  square.  I  have  tried  to  make  a  record  in  the  ring 
so  that  when  I  do  retire  people  will  say  of  me : 

"He  was  the  most  honest  fighter  that  ever  graced 
the  ring,  and  if  there  were  more  like  him  it  would 
be  a  boost  to  the  game." 


CHAPTER    X. 


The  Year  1903,  the  Turning  Point  in  the 

Battler's  Career — Continues  to  Fight 

at  Hot  Springs. 

The  year  of  1903  was  the  turning  point  in  my 
career.  In  other  words,  I  began  my  upward  climb 
along  that  shaky  ladder  of  fame,  "the  roped  arena." 
My  success  in  defeating  second  raters  in  the  several 
states  visited  had  brought  my  name  and  prowess  to 
the  attention  of  the  big  fight  promoters  and  I  soon 
found  it  an  easy  matter  to  secure  main  bouts. 

I  began  my  schedule  on  January  3rd,  at  Hot 
Spring,  tieing  up  with  George  Brownfield,  and  closed 
it  on  December  28th  at  St.  Joseph,  Mo.,  where  I  went 
fifteen  rounds  with  the  famous  Clarence  English  and 
won  the  decision.  I  went  to  the  post  just  seventeen 
times,  succeeded  in  grabbing  the  big  end  of  the  purses 
seven  times,  split  the  deals  in  draws  four  times,  and 
had  the  decision  rendered  against  me  twice.  I  en- 
gaged in  three  no-decision  affairs.  Two  battles  were 
stopped  by  the  police.  The  other  went  the  limit. 

I  drew  down  for  my  end  in  purses  over  $3,000  and 
picked  up  as  much  more  on  side  bets,  presents,  etc. 
I  fought  one  hundred  and  forty-three  rounds.  My 
toughest  foe  during  the  year  was  one  Mickey  Riley. 
I  met  Riley  for  the  first  time  in  April,  1901,  and  lost 
the  decision  to  him  in  six  rounds  in  my  Jonah  town, 
Milwaukee.  In  1903  I  met  him  on  three  separate  and 
distinct  occasions  and  "Blawst"  me  if  I  could  knock 
him  out.  We  fought  all  told  thirty-two  rounds  and 
the  decisions  were:  First  a  draw,  then  at  Ashland, 
Wis.,  when  I  was  winning,  the  police  stopped  the  go, 
thus  depriving  me  of  a  clean  win  over  him  ;  our  other 
go  also  resulted  in  a  draw.  The  many  hard  battles  of 

94 


BATTLING   NELSON  95 

1903,  I  reason  now,  were  the  making  of  me.  I  was 
gradually  learning  all  the  tricks  and  fine  points  of 
the  game  and  becoming  quite  a  favorite  all  over  the 
country. 

BAT'S   GOOD   AND    BAD   LUCK   AT    HOT   SPRINGS. 

The  first  real  fight  that  I  had  at  Hot  Springs  came 
about  as  a  result  of  my  belief  that  I  was  of  champion- 
ship calibre.  After  I  had  fought  George  Brownfield 
and  the  negro,  Christy  Williams,  I  asked  the  officials 
of  the  Vapor  City  Athletic  Club  to  match  me  with 
some  one  who  was  capable  of  giving  me  a  run  for  my 
money.  At  this  time  Sammy  Maxwell,  a  cracking 
good  Western  lightweight,  was  sojourning  there  and 
in  excellent  training.  The  club  officials  were  a  bit 
ruffled  over  my  apparent  display  of  "nerve"  in  de- 
manding that  I  be  matched  with  a  good  one,  and  they 
framed  up  to  hand  me  a  beautiful  bunch  of  "cheese"" 
and  a  good  beating  at  the  hands  of  the  selfsame 
Samuel  Maxwell. 

BEATS   SAMMY    MAXWELL. 

Maxwell  was  a  very  clever  sort  of  boxer,  his  foot- 
work being  particularly  good.  He  was  up  to  all  the 
Western  tricks  of  stalling,  fighting  foul  in  clinches,, 
and  playing  for  time.  I  warmed  up  to  his  style  after 
the  fifth  and  after  that  Sammy  had  a  hard  time  of  it 
trying  to  stay  on  his  feet.  If  I  cracked  him  to  the 
mat  once  I  did  it  half  a  dozen  times.  I  won  easily. 

Having  won  a  decisive  victory  over  Maxwell  and 
got  the  fight  fans  with  me  I  was  matched  to  fight 
Adam  Ryan,  a  lightweight,  who  was  in  close  line  for 
the  championship.  .On  that  fight  depended  my  first 
chance  to  go  into  business,  and  I  was  determined  to 
win  or  die  in  the  attempt.  We  met  at  Little  Rockv 
Ark.,  on  St.  Patrick's  Day,  March  17,  1903.  I  never 
lost  a  fight  on  St."  Patrick's  Day,  and  that  gave  me 
more  confidence  than  I  would  have  had  ordinarily. 


96  BATTLING   NELSON 

And  that  is  saying  a  whole  lot.  George  Kelly  pro- 
moted the  fight. 

I  tried  my  utmost  to  hammer  Ryan  and  his  won- 
derful reputation  into  the  land  of  Nod  that  evening, 
but  the  best  I  could  do  was  to  get  a  draw  with  him. 
Ryan  had  some  class  then  and  evidently  had  seen  me 
fight  before.  His  seconds  cautioned  him  continually 
not  to  attempt  to  go  inside,  or  carry  the  fight  to  me, 
All  I  could  hear  from  them  was  "Adam,  look  out  for 
his  left — it's  dangerous." 

He  followed  orders  all  right,  and  though  I  punished 
him  unmercifully  during  the  fifteen  rounds  fought,  he 
managed  to  hang  on.  At  the  finish  he  had  a  death- 
like grip  around  my  neck  and  was  all  in.  You  can 
imagine  my  joy  and  great  surprise  when  the  secretary 
of  the  club  walked  up  and  handed  me  $350  in  cash — 
by  far  the  largest  lump  sum  I  had  yet  received  for  one 
fight.  Middleweight  Champion  Tommy  Ryan  was  my 
chief  second  and  adviser  in  that  fight. 

BAT  BUYS  A  RESTAURANT. 

I  had  been  employed  in  the  Turf  Cafe,  at  Hot 
Springs,  at  the  time,  and,  after  finding  a  partner,  I 
bought  my  boss  out  and  the  place  was  turned  over 
to  me.  My  first  business  venture  had  begun,  and  I 
worked  as  hard  to  make  it  a  success  as  I  ever  have 
to  win  in  the  ring.  Somehow  the  fellows  didn't  seem 
to  be  quite  so  hungry  that  year  as  they  had  the  sea- 
son before,  and  the  business  was  not  near  as  big  as 
that  at  the  Waldorf,  in  New  York.  As  we  weren't 
making  much  money,  I  would  let  my  partner  run  the 
restaurant  at  night,  and  I  would  go  out  and  fight  to 
keep  the  thing  going. 

I  .was  notified  that  I  could  come  up  to  a  "stag"  and 
fight  Jack  Robinson  and  pull  down  a  little  dough  to 
help  the  restaurant  along.  It  was  the  night  of  April 
5,  and  I  ?hall  never  forget  it.  The  only  chance  I  saw 
to  keep  the  restaurant  going  was  to  lick  that  fellow 
Robinson. 


BATTLING   NELSON  97 

When  I  arrived  at  the  club,  however,  they  told  me 
the  thing  was  just  for  fun  and  that  nobody  must  be 
knocked  out.  You  can  imagine  what  kind  of  a  go  it 
was. 

When  we  were  through  with  the  six  rounds  the 
manager  of  the  house  slipped  me  a  $5  bill.  "Bat," 
I  said  to  myself,  "this  is  no  place  for  you." 

BUSINESS  GOES  TO  SMASH. 

In  pretty  bad  spirits  I  went  back  to  the  restaurant, 
and  there  I  saw  all  the  waiters  lined  up.  They  had 
peculiar  looks  on  their  faces  and  I  knew  that  some- 
thing had  happened. 

"What's  the  trouble,  fellows?"  I  asked  as  I  went  in 
the  door. 

"Nothing,"  said  one  of  them,  "except  that  your 
partner  has  beat  it  and  I  think  he's  got  all  the  money." 

The  waiter's  words  were  certainly  true.  That  fel- 
low had  vamoosed  with  everything  in  sight.  My 
$350,  that  I  had  worked  so  hard  to  save,  was  gone 
up  in  smoke.  I  was  almost  broken-hearted. 

"Here,  you  fellows,"  I  said,  turning  to  the  waiters. 
"You  fellows  serve  all  the  meals  and  get  all  the 
money  you  can  tonight,  for  I  haven't  got  anything 
else  to  pay  you  with."  They  all  sympathized  with 
me  in  my  misfortune  and  went  to  work  to  scrape  up 
what  change  they  could.  Some  of  the  steaks  sold  at 
bargain  prices  that  night.  Every  cent  taken  in  went 
to  the  waiters.  When  they  were  through  that  place 
was  a  wreck. 

Just  as  I  was  about  to  close  up  the  door  and  go  up- 
town to  look  for  another  job,  a  messenger  boy  came 
running  up  and  handed  me  a  telegram. 

ONE   RAY  OF   HOPE. 

Here  was  one  ray  of  hope.  I  tore  open  the  message 
and  inside  was  an  offer  from  Tom  Andrews  to  go  to 
Milwaukee  and  fight  Cyclone  Johnny  Thompson,  an- 


38  BATTLING   NELSON 

other  Dane.  I  had  defeated  him  before  and  felt  sure 
that  I  would  have  a  cake  walk  this  time. 

But  how  was  I  to  get  there?  I  couldn't  borrow 
money  and  I  didn't  know  what  to  do.  Suddenly  I 
thought  of  my  $5  bill  that  I  had  gotten  at  the  "stag." 
I  quickly  shoved  this  down  in  the  sole  of  my  shoe, 
stole  silently  up  Central  avenue  and  headed  toward 
the  Little  Rock  &  Hot  Springs  Western  railroad  sta- 
tion yards. 

The  fast  train  to  St.  Louis  was  just  rolling  out  of 
the  yards  and  I  chased  hard  after  her,  and  in  a  few 
moments  I  had  planted  myself  under  the  mail  car 
and  was  huddled  over  the  trucks.  Boys,  particularly 
you  kids  who  are  perhaps  inspired  over  the  success 
I  had  so  far  attained  as  a  champion  boxer,  take  heed 
here.  There  I  was,  Battling  Nelson,  the  hero  even 
then  of  almost  half  a  hundred  ring  battles — seven 
years  of  continuous  fighting,  cuffing  and  mauling — 
driven  to  the  choice  of  losing  out  on  a  chance  to  win 
money  and  laurels  by  remaining  at  the  Springs,  or  risk- 
ing my  neck  by  riding  beneath  the  trucks  of  a  mail  train 
to  keep  the  engagement  in  Milwaukee. 

I  accepted  the  desperate  chance,  and  though  the 
trip  was  fraught  with  many  dangers,  starvation  and 
pain,  I  finally  managed  to  reach  Milwaukee  in  time 
for  the  fight. 

DANGERS  OF  RIDING  ON  TRUCKS. 

I  forgot  to  say  that  before  I  got  on  the  trucks  of 
that  train  I  ran  back  to  the  restaurant  which  I  had 
owned  a  few  hours  before  and  got  two  sandwiches. 
Nothing  else  was  left,  and  as  I  had  to  hurry,  I 
grabbed  those. 

You  may  think  that  riding  on  the  trucks  of  a  pas- 
senger train  has  a  lot  of  fun  in  it,  but  you  are  mis- 
taken. At  times  it  is  like  torture.  You  can't  get  in 
a  comfortable  place.  The  worst  thing  though  is  the 
temptation  to  go  to  sleep.  I  shall  never  forget  one 


BATTLING   NELSON  99 

time  on  that  trip.  I  was  so  tired  and  so  broken  up  over 
my  misfortune  that  I  began  to  nod.  I  fully  realized  the 
dangers  of  going  to  sleep,  but  I  could  not  help  it.  I  dozed 
off  for  a  moment  and  my  foot  dropped  from  its  place  and 
struck  one  of  the  ties  of  the  track.  In  another  second 
I  was  almost  jerked  off  my  perch  as  my  foot  slammed 
against  the  floor  overhead.  It  is  a  wonder  that  my 
leg  was  not  broken.  Luckily  I  got  back  to  my  former 
position  without  injury,  but  you  can  bet  that  I  went 
to  sleep  no  more  that  night. 


TIME    I    PUT  SCOTTY 
DOWN    THE 

MT      OUT 


CHAPTER    XL 
I 

Kind  Hearted  Old  Irish  Car  Greaser 
Proves  a  Friend  Indeed. 

The  train  on  which  I  had  started  from  Hot  Springs, 
and  on  which  I  had  experienced  such  a  narrow  escape 
from  death  while  riding  on  the  trucks,  thundered  into 
St.  Louis  on  the  morning  of  April  23.  It  was  a  fast 
train,  and  when  the  snorting  engine  backed  its  long 
string  of  cars  into  the  beautiful  Union  Station  it  was 
found  that  the  brakes  wouldn't  work  properly.  Bang 
went  the  end  coach  against  the  huge,  steel-ribbed, 
safety  bumpers,  and  the  crash  jarred  every  bone  in 
my  body,  tossing  me  out  from  my  iron-ribbed  bed 
between  the  wheels,  and  onto  the  ties  under  the  car. 
The  bumpers  were  strong  and  didn't  give.  Had  such 
been  the  case  I  surely  would  have  been  ground  to 
pieces  beneath  the  train. 

A  dear,  old  grease-begrimed  car  repairer,  whose 
name  I  afterwards  learned  was  Mike  OToole,  hap- 
pened to  be  right  on  the  spot  at  the  time,  and  seeing 
my  predicament,  hastily  sprang  under  the  car  and  yanked 
me  out.  I  was  black  as  the  ace  of  spades ;  my  clothes 
were  tattered  and  torn,  and  I  was  bruised  from  head  to 
foot. 

The  old  fellow  was  very  angry,  and  said  he  in- 
tended turning  me  over  to  the  big  policeman,  who 
was  standing  at  the  entrance  gate  a  few  feet  away. 
With  tears  in  my  eyes  I  begged  the  old  fellow  not  to 
arrest  me. 

"Let  me  tell  you  who  I  am  and  the  hard  luck  I 
have  had,"  I  pleaded.  "And  maybe  you  won't  think 
so  hard  of  me." 

100     • 


BATTLING   NELSON  101 

OLD   CAR  GREASER  A   FRIEND. 

The  old  car  greaser  saw  the  tears  in  my  eyes  as 
they  trickled  over  the  soot  and  grease,  and  without 
saying  a  word  he  led  me  to  a  little  room  in  the  yards. 

"Wash  yourself,  Kid,"  he  ordered,  "and  then  I'll 
talk  to  yea." 

While  sputtering  in  the  water  and  soap  I  told  him 
that  I  was  "Kid"  Nelson,  and  that  I  had  given  my 
word  to  be  in  Milwaukee  shortly  to  fight  Cyclone 
Johnny  Thompson.  I  told  him  of  my  misfortune  at 
Hot  Springs  and  of  my  old  mother  at  Hegewisch.  He 
stopped  a  minute,  as  if  thinking. 

"Here's  the  clippings,"  I  said,  and  I  pulled  out  the 
dope  that  I  had  cut  from  the  Chicago  papers. 

"Look  here,  Kid,"  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  "are  you 
the  boy  that  licked  that  Ole  Olson  out  at  Hegewisch?" 
I  told  him  that  I  was  that  self-same  boy. 

The  old  man  danced  with  glee  when  I  showed  him 
the  clippings  telling  of  how  I  licked  several  negroes 
down  South.  He  then  got  towels  for  me  and  saw 
that  I  was  nicely  fixed  up. 

He  secured  a  clean  pair  of  overalls  for  me,  after 
which  he  made  me  "dibby  up"  his  morning  lunch. 
He  then  showed  me  a  fast  train,  which  was  headed 
Chicagoward,  and  would  pull  out  in  half  an  hour. 
The  old  man  even  went  so  far  as  to  tip  off  the  fire- 
man that  I  was  "Kid"  Nelson,  the  great  little  Hege- 
wisch boxer.  I  was  pretty  well  taken  care  of  after 
that,  and  that  evening  I  rolled  into  the  Polk  street 
station,  happy,  though  pretty  badly  used  up.  It  was 
a  record-breaking  trip,  and,  mind  you,  didn't  cost  me 
a  penny.  I  pulled  out  the  friendly  five-spot  upon  my 
arrival  and  fed  the  "tiger"  on  real  steak  at  my  old 
standby's  place, — Flynn  Brothers'  restaurant. 

BAT   HAS  A  REAL  FEED. 

After  putting  away  the  first  real  feed  I  had  had 
since  leaving  Hot  Springs,  I  felt  pretty  good,  only 


10-2  BATTLING   NELSON 

that  I  was  dust-begrimed,  and  my  clothes  were  all 
worn  out,  after  the  thrilling  experience  of  "A  Night 
and  a  Day."  I  hurried  down  to  one  of  those  lo-cent 
"flop  houses"  on  State  street,  where  you  get  a  bed 
and  a  bath,  all  for  a  dime.  I,  of  course,  broke  the 
rules  of  the  house  by  taking  the  bath  before  I  went 
to  bed  instead  of  waiting  until  morning.  Early  next 
morning  I  met  my  manager,  Teddy  Murphy,  and 
we  went  up  to  Hoo-Dooville,  Milwaukee,  and  came 
off  with  flying  colors. 

Cyclone  Johnny  Thompson  was  the  boxer  the 
Badger  Club  officials  had  picked  to  break  my  winning 
streak,  and  for  whom  I  rode  the  record-breaking 
trucks  from  Hot  Springs  to  Chicago.  It  was  my  sec- 
ond meeting  with  Thompson.  Since  the  former  bout 
he  had  fought  his  way  up  to  the  very  top  of  the  light- 
weight division  like  myself  and  was  the  favorite  over 
me  in  the  betting.  I  might  casually  mention  here  that 
I  have  usually  been  the  under  dog  in  the  betting. 
The  exception  was,  of  course,  in  my  last  battle  with 
the  negro  Cans,  when  I  went  to  the  post  a  2  to  i 
favorite. 

I  could  never  understand  it,  but  I  experienced  a 
good  share  of  my  tough  breaks  while  fighting  ir 
waukee.  I  lost  several  of  my  battles  fought  right  in 
the  "city  of  beer."  (All  on  hair  line  decisions  or 
where  the  referee  showed  favoritism  to  the  home 
talent.)  My  record  will  bear  me  out,  as  it  will  be 
seen  that  I  never  lost  a  fight  in  Milwaukee  to  an  out- 
sider, but  all  to  home  lads. 

LICKS  CYCLONE   JOHNNY. 

On  the  evening  of  April  24,  1903,  the  "Cyclone," 
fresh  as  a  daisy  from  four  weeks'  hard  training  on 
Iris  farm  at  Sycamore,  jumped  over  the  ropes  and 
grasped  my  hand. 

"Kid,"  he  said,  "you  won't  find  this  fight  as  easy 
as  the  other  one.  Your  great  Southern  record  doesn't 


BATTLING   NELSON  103 

seem  to  have  made  much  of  a  hit  here,  as  I  see  they 
are  quoting  you  at  3  to  I." 

"All  right,  Johnny,"  I  answered,  "take  good  care 
of  yourself  tonight,  as  I'm  in  a  bad  humor;  the  odds 
will  be  loo  to  i  against  you  before  three  rounds  are 
over." 

"Clang!  clang!  went  the  gong,  and  we  sailed  into 
each  other.  Johnny  in  our  previous  fight  did  not  rush 
me  hard,  but  contented  himself  with  staying  away 
and  tried  to  outpoint  me.  He  did  last  the  six  rounds, 
but  I  beat  him  easily.  This  night,  however,  he  sailed 
into  me  from  the  outset,  and,  my,  how  we  did  whack 
each  other  about  the  ring.  I  always  go  hard  to  begin 
with,  but  he  probably  had  the  first  round  up  his  sleeve. 
Again,  in  the  second,  he  kept  up  his  slugging  and 
rushing.  Toward  the  close  I  slipped  a  neat  left  deep 
into  his  wind  and  he  backed  up  as  though  I  had  hit 
him  with  a  piece  of  lead  pipe.  In  the  third  the  "Cy- 
clone," like  a  sprinter  out  in  front  of  the  field  in  a 
long  race,  began  to  tire  and  come  back  to  me.  Then 
I  began  to  shoot  over  some  of  my  extra  special  left 
hooks  and  mixed  things  up  with  him,  so  that  he  prob- 
ably didn't  know  whether  he  was  fighting  or  mixed  in 
a  railroad  wreck.  I  forced  him  to  cover  for  the  -bal- 
ance of  the  battle,  and  in  the  sixth  and  final  round 
he  probably  raced  five  miles  around  the  ring  while  en- 
deavoring to  keep  out  of  reach  of  my  "hot  punches." 
In  the  last  round  I  got  to  him,  and  it  was  the  gong 
alone  that  saved  him.  So  much  for  "Cyclone" 
Johnny  Thompson. 

BEATS   STOCKINGS    KELLY. 

Stockings  Kelly,  another  one  of  Chicago's  best 
lightweights,  challenged  me.  I  accepted  and  we  met 
on  May  22.  It  was  our  first  meeting,  and 'as  Kelly 
had  defeated  several  pretty  fair  fighters,  I  trained 
hard  for  him.  He  put  up  a  pretty  nifty  battle  for 
just  two  rounds.  But  the  fast  pace  quickly  told  on 


104  BATTLING   NELSON 

his  wind,  and  then  I  cantered  out  to  put  him  away. 
I  got  to  him  prettily  in  the  fourth  round,  and  ended 
his  suffering  with  a  straight  right  to  the  wind,  which 
was  ably  assisted  by  a  half  left  hook  to  the  jaw. 

Three  weeks  later  a  young  man  whom  many  of  the 
readers  of  this  history  will  remember,  challenged  me, 
Young  Scotty,  by  name.  We  met  at  Fond  du  Lac, 
Wisconsin.  This  is  one  of  the  rights  that  will  live 
forever  in  the  minds  of  every  man  who  witnessed  it. 
I  knocked  Scotty  out  about  half  a  dozen  times,  and, 
strange  to  say,  every  time  I  put  him  down  and  out 
the  electric  lights  went  out  too. 

His  head  hit  the  floor  with  such  force  it  jarred  the 
building  and  I  guess  turned  off  the  electric  light 
switch?  ?  ? 

Nevertheless,  with  the  assistance  of  the  referee  and 
the  electric  lights,  etc.,  he  managed  to  stay  the  limit, 
eight  rounds,  and  to  my  surprise  I  was  actually 
handed  the  decision  along  with  $125,  for  my  trouble. 
The  facts  in  the  case  are  the  bunch  tried  to  shoo 
Young  Scotty  in,  but  I  beat  them  to  it.  The  lights 
were  turned  off  purposely  to  save  him.  Nick  Finley, 
who  had  won  several  small  bets  handed  me  a  crisp 
one  hundred  dollar  bill,  saying,  "You  done  great  Bat, 
even  though  they  turned  out  the  lights  on  you.  You 
turned  them  out  on  Scotty  a  few  times  yourself — well, 
what's  the  use — you  won — that's  enough." 


Fighting  Dane  Thrives  on  Punishment 
and  Wears  Down  His  Rival. 


BY  W.  J.    (SPIKE)    SLATTERY. 

Succumbing  to  sheer  exhaus- 
tion and  tireless  pursuit  by  his 
relentless  opponent,  Joe  Gans 
sank  in  a  heap  in  the  twenty- 
first  round  at  the  Mission 
street  arena  yesterday  after- 
noon. Before  he  could  raise  his 
weary  body  from  the  floor 
Referee  Eddie. Smith  had 
counted  him  out  and  Battling 
Nelson  had  demonstrated  be- 
yond all  cavil  that  he  is  the 
greatest  fighter  in  the  world  at 
the  lightweight  limit.  Gans 
was  a  beaten  man  from  the 
third  round,  and  it  was  only  his 
wonderful  gameness  and  ring 
generalship  that  prolonged  the  battle.  The  fight  was 
almost  an  exact  counterpart  of  the  one  two  months 
ago,  when  Gans  lost  his  title.  The  only  difference 
was  that  it  lasted  four  rounds  longer  and  Gans  took 
a  far  more  severe  drubbing.  Yesterday's  defeat  not 
only  used  Gans  up  physically,  but  it  crushed  his 
spirit.  Before  leaving  the  arena  he  announced  that 
he  would  never  again  battle  in  a  prize  ring. 

It  was  a  great  fight.  Sensational  in  the  extreme, 
bloody  and  fiery  from  the  moment  the  first  blow  was 
struck,  the  conflict  stirred  the  thousands  of  the  spec- 
tators and  made  mad,  screeching  things  out  of  the 

105 


106  BATTLING   NELSON 

men  gathered  at  the  ringside.  Although  the  result 
was  never  in  doubt,  the  fray  held  the  interest  of  every- 
body until  Cans  sank  down,  a  humiliated  gladiator. 

What  the  finish  would  be  was  apparent  from  the 
third  round  on.  Once  Gans  failed  to  stop  his-  tear- 
ing opponent  from  boring  into  him  he  was  gone.  It 
was  not  Nelson's  blows  so  much  as  his  tireless  forc- 
ing and  bustling  that  wore  Gans  down.  The  old  mas- 
ter held  out  just  as  long  as  he  could  and  incidentally 
saved  his  friends  who  had  bet  that  he  would  last 
twenty  rounds.  Then  he  was  willing  to  fade  away 
gently,  and  he  did. 

Nelson  again  demonstrated  that  he  could  withstand 
any  kind  of  punching  on  the  head.  He  took  the  hard- 
est blows  that  Gans  could  shoot  at  him  and  fought  all 
the  faster.  Every  wallop  which  the  wonderful  black 
landed  seemed  only  to  spur  on  the  Dane.  The  more 
Nelson  was  punished,  the  harder  he  battled. — The  San 
Francisco  Call,  Thursday,  September  10,  1908. 


CHAPTER    XII. 


Mickey  Riley  Proves  the  Champion 
"Jonah"  for  the  Battling  Dane. 

Did  you  ever  hear  that  song  called  "Hurrah  for 
Mickey  Riley?" 

Well,  whether  you  have  or  not,  it  was  written  in 
honor  of  Mickey  Riley,  a  prize  fighting  product  of 
the  State  of  Wisconsin.  He  was  some  fighter,  too. 
Every  time  I  hear  that  song  I  lose  my  temper.  That's 
one  fellow  I  never  could  lick.  I  don't  know  what  has 
become  of  Mickey,  but  if  there  is  still  a  fight  left  in 
him  I  would  certainly  put  aside  my  great  tour  and 
tie  up  with  him  again.  I  want  to  have  the  satisfac- 
tion of  beating  him  and  clearing  up  my  old  record. 
I  have,  of  course,  unquestionably  and  indisputably 
won  my  right  to  the  title  of  world's  champion  light- 
weight, but  when  I  dream  of  the  "goes"  with  .this 
Riley  boy  I  become  flustered. 

I  met  Riley  the  first  time  in  "Hoo-dooville" — Mil- 
waukee— on  April  19,  1901.  He  won  a  decision  over 
me  in  six  rounds  at  the  Badger  Athletic  Club. 

After  the  young  Scotty  win,  who  should  challenge 
me  again,  after  a  wait  of  two  long  years,  but  that 
same  Mickey  Riley.  I  obliged  him  on  June  19,  1903, 
three  days  after  the  Scotty  battle.  We  fought  in  the 
same  club.  The  same  fight  fans  were  there,  and,  as  I 
remember  it,  the  self-same  referee. 

For  six  rounds  we  boxed,  cuffed,  butted,  mauled 
and  hammered  each  other.  He  was  a  clever  sort  of 
fellow — mauling,  etc. — but  didn't  possess  much  steam 
behind  his  blows.  I  was  forced  to  do  much  of  the 
leading,  and  as  it  was  a  rule  of  the  club  that  if  both 
fighters  were  on  their  feet  fighting  at  the  end  of  six 
rounds  the  bout  would  be  called  a  draw,  the  official 

107 


108 


BATTLING    NELSON  109 

of  the  ring  held  up  both  our  hands.     Riley  gave  me  a 
pretty  stiff  argument  that  day.    He  always  did. 

DECIDE    TO    FIGHT    IT    OVER. 

Both  Riley  and  myself  were  dissatisfied  with  the  six- 
round  affair  and  were  anxious  to  settle  matters  in  a 
longer  bout.  We  arranged  the  third  battle,  to  take  place 
at  Ashland,  Wis.,  July  24,  1903. 

\Ye  "shied  our  castors,"  as  the  pugilistic  writers  say, 
into  the  roped  arena,  both  fit  to  go  a  long  route.  I  had 
knocked  out  Larry  McDonald  in  four  rounds  at  Harvey, 
111.,  and  fought  Clarence  English  a  gruelling  fiftee.n- 
round  draw  at  Kansas  City,  Mo.,  the  week  previous.  As 
a  consequence,  I  was  in  fine  condition.  Again  we  fought 
every  inch  of  the  way  from  gong  to  gong,  and  from 
r< . mid  to  round.  He  would  have  the  edge  on  me  for  a 
round  or  so,  after  which  I  would  put  on  steam  and  batter 
him  up  and  down  and  around.  I  finally  landed  a  couple 
of  those  old  famous  left  hooks  and  cut  his  eye.  He  was 
hk-o'ling  freely,  and  my  right  wind-sinker  seemed  to  take 
all  his  steam  away.  Here  the  police  stepped  in  and 
stopped  the  fight,  preventing  me  from  scoring  what  I 
believe  would  have  been  a  clean  knockout  over  Mickey. 
The  club  manager  handed  me  $150  wrapped  up  in* a 
neat  little  package  for  my  pains. 

The  battle  was  fought  in  the  evening  at  the  Eagles' 
carnival. 

FANS    INSIST   ON    FOURTH    FIGHT. 

The  fight  fans,  many  of  whom  had  viewed  our  other 
two  battles,  were  dissatisfied  because  the  police  inter- 
fered, and  right  there  urged  that  the  entire  party  take 
the  train  for  Hurley  and  have  the  fight  settled,  for  once 
and  all  time.  Poley  La  Page,  the  manager  of  the  fight 
club  in  Hurley,  \Yis.,  was  among  the  spectators,  and 
immediately  approached  both  of  us  and  offered  a  guar- 
anteed purse  of  $300  to  fight  the  following  week. 

My  manager,  Teddy  Murphy,  and  I  accompanied  La 


110  BATTLING   NELSON 

Page  to  the  battle  ground  the  following  day,  while 
Mickey  and  Dan  Clark  his  manager  went  to  Milwaukee 
to  attend  to  some  business.  They  arrived  the  following 
day,  and,  as  we  had  a  few  days'  training,  we  stepped 
into  the  ring  in  prime  condition,  ready  for  the  fight  of 
our  lives. 

FOUGHT   WITH    SULLIVAN'S  OLD  GLOVES. 

A  very  funny  incident  happened,  as  the  club  officials 
hadn't  provided  gloves  for  the  entertainment  through 
some  oversight  that  wasn't  discovered  until  Riley  and 
I  were  in  the  ring  ready  for  action.  We,  of  course,  had 
to  send  out  for  a  pair  of  old  ones.  After  half  an  hour's 
wait  they  returned  with  a  pair  of  old  gloves  that  had 
been  used  by  Paddy  Ryan  and  John  L.  Sullivan  in 
Mississippi  City,  Miss.,  in  1882. 

Of  course,  the  mere  mention  of  the  old  time  gladia- 
tors using  the  gloves  stirred  our  blood  up  to  a  fighting 
pitch,  and  how  we  did  tear,  maul  and  slam  each  other  for 
fifteen  rounds  will  not  soon  be  forgotten  in  the  old  copper 
district  of  Hurley,  Wis.  After  fifteen  rounds  of  the 
most  gruelling,  as  well  as  bloody  milling,  with  the  battle 
swaying  first  one  way,  then  the  other,  the  referee  at  its 
conclusion  called  it  a  draw  amidst  tremendous  applause. 

I  fought,  all  told,  thirty-eight  rounds  with  Riley,  four 
battles,  and  drew  down  in  purses  $484.23.  Just  two 
years  after  my  last  battle  with  Mickey  I  beat  down  the 
pride  of  the  Golden  West,  James  Edward  Britt,  in  eigh- 
teen rounds  and  received  for  winning  $18,841,  besides  a 
$10,000  side  bet.  I  also  won  the  white  lightweight  cham- 
pionship of  the  world  as  well.  Jimmy  Britt  received 
$12,558  for  his  share. 

PITCHER    JACK    POWELL    BAT^S    FRIEND. 

Shortly  after  this  I  paved  the  way  for  a  chance  at  the 
title  holders  by  finally  cornering  Clarence  English  and 
forcing  him  to  agree  to  a  match.  Clarence  English 
needs  no  introduction  to  the  readers,  for  he  was  a  light- 


BATTLING    NELSON  111 

weight  of  national  prominence  during  the  year  1903.  I 
persistently  dogged  him  for  a  go  and  finally,  thinking  me 
soft  picking,  he  accepted. 

At  that  time  one  of  the  best  friends  that  I  had  was 
Big  Jack  Powell,  the  giant  pitcher  of  the  St.  Louis 
Browns.  As  the  fighting  game  was  flourishing  in  Mis- 
souri, I  was  anxious  to  get  a  go  with  Clarence  English 
at  one  of  the  St.  Louis  clubs.  I  tried  Charley  Hough- 
ton's  West  End  Club,  but  was  unsuccessful.  They 
couldn't  see  me  as  a  drawing  card.  Jack  Powell  took  a 
big  interest  in  the  matter  and  tried  to  persuade  Hough- 
ton  to  put  me  on  and  assured  him  that  if  I  were  given 
the  chance  I  would  make  good. 

Houghton  was  stubborn,  however,  and  said '"Nay, 
nay,"  to  everybody.  There  was  nothing  to  be  done  but 
go  to  Kansas  City.  Clarence  and  I  fought  there  on  the 
evening  of  June  27. 

I  surprised  English  and  all  his  friends  early  in  the 
fight  by  almost  knocking  him  out  of  the  ring  with  a 
vicious  right  uppercut.  He  had  held  me  cheaply  up  to 
that,  and  my,  how  he  did  begin  to  back  up  whenever  I 
started  one  of  my  now  famous  rushes. 

GETS  DRAW   WITH    ENGLISH. 

I  stood  toe  to  toe  with  him,  and  swapped  blow  for 
.blow,  and  at  the  conclusion  of  the  fifteenth  round,  amidst 
great  cheering,  was  given  a  draw.  I  fractured  my  left 
arm  along  about  the  middle  of  the  fight,  which  tended 
to  make  me  somewhat  cautious,  and  possibly  stopped  me 
from  winning  by  a  clean  knockout.  As  it  was  a  great 
many  of  the  spectators  thought  that  I  was  entitled  to 
the  decision. 

A  couple  of  weeks  after  my  Kansas  City  engagement 
with  Clarence  English  I  went  to  Pewaukee  Lake  for  a 
little  recreation.  Upon  my  arrival  I  found  Eddie  Santry 
there  training  for  an  engagement  with  Eddie  Sterns.  A 
few  clays  before  this  bout,  which  was  to  take  place  at 
Michigan  City,  he  was  taken  sick,  and  I,  being  under  the 


BATTLINr    NELSON   AS    HE  APPEARED   WHEN   HE   WON  THE 
CHAMPIONSHIP   FROM    CANS. 


112 


BATTLING    NELSON  113 

same  management,  Manager  Murphy  substituted  me  in 
order  to  save  the  forfeit  money.  I  was  in  fair  condition, 
having  been  training  with  Santry. 

We  met  on  August  26,  and  of  all  the  raw  deals  ever 
handed  me,  this  one  certainly  takes  the  cream.  We  were 
billed  to  go  ten  rounds  to  a  decision  at  133  pounds.  We 
had  $50  up  for  weight  and  appearance,  but  when  my 
manager  (Murphy)  and  I  arrived  in  Michigan  City, 
about  noon,  we  found  that  Sterns  had  taken  down  his 
weight  forfeit,  and,  being  overweighed,  also  refused  to 
weigh  in.  Nevertheless,  we  waived  the  forfeit,  and  I 
went  on  and  fought. 

BAT   GETS  RAW   DEAL. 

Of  course,  at  that  time  I  wasn't  so  much  of  a  card, 
and  didn't  have  so  much  chance  to  argue  about  the  ref- 
eree, etc.,  and  had  to  accept  any  referee  the  club  put  in 
the  ring.  We  jumped  into  the  ring  and  went  at  it. 

Before  the  fight  had  gone  half  a  minute  I  knocked 
Stearns  out,  and  he  was  given  at  least  fifteen  seconds  to 
get  to  his  feet.  Every  round  up  to  the  ninth  was  iden- 
tically as  the  first,  the  referee  cautioning  me,  saying: 
"If  you  hit  him  again  you  will  be  declared  loser  on  a 
foul."  I  guess  he  wanted  me  to  quit. 

Finally  in  the  ninth  round  I  sunk  my  good  right  into 
his  mid-section.  He  doubled  up  like  a  jackknife,  and 
down  he  went,  completely  out,  as  limp  as  a  rag.  His 
seconds  and  the  referee  carried  him  to  his  corner,  and 
he  was  given  the  decision,  I  believe,  for  taking  more 
knockdowns  than  I  did. 

When  we  came  to  the  box-office  to  settle  up  I  was  to 
receive  $125  guaranteed,  win,  lose,  or  draw,  two  railroad 
fares  and  hotel  bill.  But  instead  they  handed  me  $50  and 
made  me  pay  all  my  expenses,  and  when  I  started  to 
complain  they  ordered  to  shut  up  and  leave  town  as 
quickly  as  possible,  or  be  put  into  State's  prison,  I  im- 
mediately went  to  the  hotel,  paid  my  bill,  and  went  to 
the  depot  about  1 130  A.  M. 


f!4  BATTLING   NELSON 

Teddy  Murphy  and  I  got  one  of  those  side-door  sleep- 
ers—''freights  "—which  we  rode  to  Hammond,  later 
walking  to  Hegewisch,  111.,  my  home. 

QUITS    INDIANA   FOREVER. 

I  have  previously  mentioned  Milwaukee  as  Hoodoo- 
ville,  but  Indiana  has  Milwaukee  played  off  the  boards. 
The  fight  promoters  there  at  that  time  would  have  put 
Jesse  James  and  his  brother  Frank  to  shame.  The  first 
fight  of  my  career  I  fought  at  Hammond,  Ind.,  and  was 
to  receive  a  dollar  for  it.  Instead,  they  stole  my  coat 
and  vest  and  refused  to  give  me  the  money. 

My  second  fight  was  with  Billy  Hurley  at  Hammond, 
Ind.  I  was  expecting  a  bad  deal,  therefore  I  demanded 
my  measley  little  fifty  dollars  before  I  would  enter  the 
ring,  nevertheless  they  slipped  me  a  package  by  only  giv- 
ing me  a  draw  when  I  should  have  won. 

But  in  Michigan  City  I  was  handed  such  a  bundle  of 
green  goods  that  I  immediately  swore  vengeance  against 
the  State,  saying  that  as  long  as  I  lived  I  never  would 
pull  on  another  glove  on  Indiana  soil.  And  I  never 
have  since. 

THE  BATTLER  FIGHTS  HEAVYWEIGHT. 

A  few  nights  after  my  unsatisfactory  scrap  in  Mich- 
igan City,  Indiana,  I  chanced  to  be  in  Flynn's  restaurant 
talking  with  Will  Flynn  and  Frank  Daniels,  the  well 
known  actor.  We  were  discussing  the  way  they  treated 
me  after  winning  the  fight,  and  only  gave  me  $50  in- 
stead of  $125,  etc. 

Flynn  and  Daniels  suggested  I  fight  a  fellow  the 
"Ham  Actors"  were  boosting  as  the  greatest  "What 
Am"  for  a  collection.  They  would  all  donate  to  the 
purse.  Will  Flynn  presented  me  with  a  $5.50  meal  ticket 
for  a  starter,  and  put  $5.00  in  the  hat  towards  the  purse. 

I  hadn't  seen  the  fellow.  In  fact,  had  never  heard  of 
him.  His  name  was  "Dare  Devil"  Tilden.  He  was 
doing  a  "High  Dive,"  in  a  tank  of  water  on  a  bicycle, 


BATTLING   NELSON 


115 


as   well  as  the  loop-the-loop,   so  you   can  imagine  the 
nerve  he  had. 

FOUGHT  IN  FLYNN'S  HALL  ON  NORTHWEST  SIDE. 

About  midnight  of  Sept.  3,  1903,  when  all  the  actors 
and  a  few  actresses  were  put  wise  to  the  bout,  about  100 
of  us  started  for  the  northwest  side,  and  stole  our  way 
into  the  hall,  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  were  stripped  and 
ready  for  the  fray,  which  was  fought  in  the  dance  hall. 

The  first  round  started  off,  and  the  very  first  punch 
Tilden  let  go  copped  me  square  on  the  nose  and  started 
the  blood.  We  both  scored  a  knockdown  before  three 
minutes  of  fighting  had  elapsed. 

In  the  second  round  I  got  to  Tilden  good  and  hard, 
and  had  his  nose  bleeding,  also  put  him  down  for  the 
count.  At  the  sight  of  blood  the  women  commenced  to 
scream  and  some  one  called  "Police!  Police!  Police!" 
and  then  some  of  the  bunch  turned  out  the  electric  lights. 


Cartoonist  hugh  Doyte  on  Battling  Nelson' sjjterary  Aspirations 


116  BATTLING   NELSON 

The  party  all  ducked  into  the  "ante  room"  for  a  few 
minutes  and  lay  quiet  and  wait  developments. 

AT  IT  AGAIN. 

We  started  at  it  again,  and  again  some  one  yelled 
"Police!"  and  the  women  screamed.  It  was  later  tipped 
off  that  Tilden's  "sweetheart"  was  the  one  that  started 
the  police  racket  to  save  the  humiliation  of  seeing  her 
"future"  stretched  out  for  the  count. 

Will  Flynn,  the  referee,  wisely  called  a  halt  and  de- 
clared the  contest  a  no  decision  bout,  and  split  the  purse 
$7.50  a  piece.  The  whole  party  fled  for  the  night  to 
their  hotels — those  that  were  fortunate  to  have  such 
luxuries. 

One  month  later,  October  16,  found  me  again  mixing 
things  in  Jonahville,  Milwaukee.  This  time  it  was  the 
pet  of  the  village,  Mr.  Charlie  Neary.  He  fought  in 
Milwaukee  a  few  years  before  that,  and  as  the  reader 
will  remember  several  years  after,  and  no  outside  pugilist 
was  ever  allowed  to  win  from  him  in  six  rounds.  He 
was  part  owner  of  the  club  in  which  he  did  battle.  He 
has  since,  however,  been  foolish  enough  to  go  "Outside," 
and  if  I  remember  correctly  has  been  defeated  decisively, 
each  and  every  time. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


The  Battler  Describes  His  Famous  Left 

Half  Scissors  Hook  and  How 

He  Used  It. 

In  one  of  the  preceding  chapters  I  made  mention  of  a 
blow  that  I  have  termed  the  "left  half  scissors  hook/'  I 
wish  to  say  right  here  that  the  discovery  of  this  blow  is 
largely  responsible  for  my  entering  the  ranks  of  the' 
champions.  Soon  after  I  had  discovered  this  deadly 
blow  I  began  to  meet  the  aspirants  for  the  championship 
title,  and  I  keeled  them  over  one  after  another. 

The  left  half  scissors  hook  is  nothing  more  than 
a  quick  hook,  which  lands  on  the  top  of  an  opponent's 
liver.  The  blow  is  always  unexpected,  and  it  is  so  pain- 
ful that  it  is  almost  paralyzing  in  its  effect.  That  was 
the  blow  that  I  dealt  Joe  Cans  at  Goldfield  when  it  was 
claimed  that  I  had  fouled  him.  But  we  will  take  that 
up  later. 

The  left  half  scissors  hook  is  dealt  with  the  side  of 
the  left  hand.  In  coming  out  of  a  clinch  fight  fans 
will  notice  that  the  left  hand  of  a  fighter  is  withdrawn,  as 
a  rule,  from  under  the  right  arm  of  his  opponent.  It 
is  just  at  this  moment  that  the  blow  must  be  delivered. 

HITS  WITH  SIDE  OF  HAND. 

Instead  of  hitting  with  the  knuckles  of  the  fist  I  take 
a  swing  of  not  more  than  six  inches  and  plunge  the 
side  of  my  hand  with  thumb  and  forefinger  on  top  of 
my  opponent's  liver.  To  test  this  blow  suppose  one  of 
you  get  a  friend  to  tap  you  about  three  inches  below  the 
right  armpit  and  a  little  forward.  To  be  explicit,  the 
spot  is  on  the  two  lower  ribs  about  two  inches  above  the 
lower  right-hand  pocket  of  your  vest.  A  slight  tap  on 
that  spot  will  send  a  pain  shooting  all  the  way  to  the 
spine. 

117 


118  BATTLING   NELSON 

I  have  struck  men  with  that  punch  and  they  would 
crumple  up  and  fall  in  a  heap.  The  pain  is  intense. 
Often  the  blow  is  not  seen  by  the  spectators,  and  they 
have  an  idea  that  the  fighter  who  falls  is  quitting  or 
"laying  down." 

CHOYNSKI  HAD  WICKED  TRICK. 

I  discovered  how  to  use  this  deadly  punch  from  watch- 
ing Joe  Choynski.  He  had  a  wicked  habit  of  placing 
his  fingers  on  an  opponent's  breast  while  in  the  clinches 
of  a  fight  as  if  to  talk  to  him. 

With  the  tips  of  his  fingers  touching  the  other  fellow's 
right  nipple  he  would  say,  "Now,  old  fellow,  you  want 
to  be  good."  Then  before  a  word  could  be  said  in  reply, 
by  the  mere  movement  of  the  wrist,  he  would  plunge 
the  heel  of  his  left-hand  into  the  man's  liver.  When  a 
man  doubled  up  from  the  unexpected  pain,  Joe  would 
whang  him  in  the  jaw  and  the  fight  would  be  over.  To 
try  that  blow  put  the  tips  of  your  fingers  on  any  object 
and  see  with  what  force  you  can  bring  the  heel  of  your 
hand  down  on  the  same  object  without  removing  the 
fingers.  Try  this  once  and  see  what  you  think  of  it. 

As  I  have  said,  I  was  always  trying  to  learn  something 
while  a  kid.  I  saw  Choynski  do  this  a  couple  of  times 
and  I  began  to  study  anatomy.  I  got  a  chart  of  a  human 
body  and  saw  exactly  where  the  liver  was  located.  I 
then  improved  on  Choynski's  scheme  and  developed  the 
left  half  scissors  hook.  Incidentally,  this  is  the  first 
time  I  have  ever  tipped  this  off.  There  are  many  fight- 
ers, however,  who  .will  tell  you  it  was  what  put  them  out. 

USED   BLOW    WITH   DEADLY   EFFECT. 

It  was  in  the  early  part  of  1903  that  I  began  to  use 
the  left  half  scissors  hook  with  deadly  effect.  Then  it 
was  that  I  began  to  be  a  champion.  The  first  good 
fighter  that  I  used  the  blow  on  was  George  Memsic,  and 
I  came  near  putting  him  out  in  six  rounds  at  Milwaukee 
in  November  of  that  year.  We  fought  at  the  Badger 


BATTLING   NELSON  119 

Athletic  Club.  As  you  all  remember,  Memsic  was  a 
hustling  little  scrapper.  At  that  time  he  was  fresh  from 
the  State  of  Washington,  where  he  had  won  a  lot  of 
glory  in  his  four-round  go  with  Young  Corbett,  at  that 
time  the  featherweight  champion,  and  the  talk  of  the 
universe.  George  was  going  at  his  best  when  the  Mil- 
waukee promoters  signed  me  up,  expecting,  of  course, 
to  see  me  trimmed.  We  went  six  hot  rounds,  and  Mem- 
sic was  given  probably  the  worst  trouncing  he  has  ever 
received  in  his  entire  fighting  career. 

I  won  the  decision  by  a  block.  In  fact,  had  the  battle 
been  a  few  rounds  longer,  I  would  have  hung  his  scalp 
in  my  "Knockout  Closet,"  wherein  hang  such  famous 
and  gallant  warriors  as  Art  Simms,  Spider  Welsh,  Mar- 
tin Canole,  Eddie  Hanlon,  Young  Corbett,  with  a  couple 
of  notches;  Jimmy  Britt,  Jack  Clifford,  and,  to  make 
the  morgue  complete,  I  have  Negro  Cans  with  two  such 
awful  dark  slashes  as  anybody  would  care  to  see. 

The  closet  contains  right  now  no  less  than  twenty- 
seven  well  battered  and  dried  scalps. 

LICKS  CLARENCE  ENGLISH. 

Mr.  English,  called  Clarence,  to  whom  I  gave  fifteen 
rounds  of  pretty  bad  usage  in  Kansas  City  in  June, 
challenged  me  for  a  return  go  and  I  accepted.  The 
battle  ground  was  chosen  at  St.  Joseph,  where  he  made 
his  headquarters. 

Again  I  packed  up  my  Spalding  fighting  shoes,  my 
dear  old  green  tights  and  hustled  off  Missouriward.  We 
were  to  go  the  same  route,  and  English  and  his  friends 
figured  that  I  would  be  easy  over  that  distance;  how- 
ever, I  found  that  I  had  won  hundreds  of  friends  in 
Kansas  City  by  giving  the  famous  English  such  a  brush- 
ing, and  imagine  my  surprise  and  delight  when  upon  my 
arrival  I  was  met  at  the  station  by  Cal  Morton  and 
Johnny  Webster,  the  most  famous  brother  Eagles  that 
fly  and  a  hundred  Kansas  City  admirers.  The  odds  at 
ringside,  were  3  to  2  in  favor  of  English.  Despite  this 


120  BATTLING   NELSON 

my  Missouri  friends  went  down  on  my  end  hook,  line 
and  sinker  for  all  they  had.  They  said,  "Bat,  old  boy, 
if  you  lose  to  this  fellow  we'll  have  to  foot  'er  all  the 
way  back  to  Kansas  City.  Be  a  nice  boy  and  trim  him 
right."  I  did  all  right,  and  my  Kansas  City  friends  to 
this  day  are  spending  the  money  they  won  on  that  battle. 

TRIED  TO   SMOTHER  BAT. 

English  tried  to  smother  me  with  a  series  of  lightning 
swings  from  the  very  outset.  He  was  determined  to  out- 
slug  me  as  well  as  use  his  splendid  footwork  to  discon- 
cert me.  I  saw  through  his  scheme  quickly,  and  in  the 
first  round  contented  myself  with  blocking  and  sparing 
my  blows.  I  did  crack  him  two  awful  jolts  in  the  wind 
before  the  round  had  closed,  but  he  won  the  round  all 
right.  He  came  back  again  and  I  worked  him  into 
clinches  at  every  opportunity.  Here  I  played  havoc  with 
his  wind  and  roughed  it  with  him  furiously.  Round 
three  found  Mr.  English  bleeding  pretty  badly,  and, 
strange  to  relate,  breaking  ground  like  a  good  fellow. 
This  round  was  all  mine.  I  had  him  covering  up,  cry- 
ing foul  and  doing  his  best  to  stall  through. 

In  round  four  I  uncorked  my  special  left  half  scissors 
hook,  which  true  to  its  training  landed  hard  on  his  liver. 
Back  he  went  with  both  arms  to  his  sides.  It  was  now 
a  shame  to  take  the  money.  I  stepped  in  and  biffed  him 
a  counter  with  my  right  in  the  wind,  which  straightened 
him  up.  The  balance  of  the  fight  went  all  my  way. 
Think  of  it !  I  was  handed  down  $500 — regular  United 
States  dollars.  My  Kansas  City  friends  had  bet  $500 
for  me  as  well.  So  there  I  stood,  or  rather  I  was  car- 
ried out  of  the  ring  in  possession  of  $1,500 — a  small 
fortune  then.  As  usual,  I  immediately  wired  every  cent 
of  it  home  to  mother. 

MADE    ABOUT    $2,3OO    THAT    YEAR. 

This  signal  victory  concluded  my  year's  work.  I  had 
won  in  purses  about  $2,300,  besides,  of  course,  much 


BATTLING   NELSON  121 

more  in  side  bets,  etc.  I  began  the  year  fighting  for  $5. 
I  ended  up  by  earning  $1,500  in  one  evening. 

Though  the  year  was  ended  and  I  was  still  a  long 
way  from  the  lightweight  championship,  I  had  learned 
something  that  was  destined  to  bring  me  fame  and  for- 
tune. I  had  learned  to  deliver  the  left  half-scissors 
hook,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  try  it  out  in  the  next 
fight.  I  then  went  home  and  took  a  long  rest.  I  was 
determined  to  get  a  fresh  start  and  go  after  the  top- 
notch  honors. 

Upon  my  arrival  at  Hegewisch  I  was  honored  by 
being  requested  to  come  to  the  public  school  and  talk  to 
the  boys  on  physical  culture. 


BATTLING    NELSON    SHOWING    HIS    WONDERFUL   PHYSICAL    DEVELOPMENT. 

AS    WELL  AS   THE   DEFECTS    IN   HIS   TWO   BAD    (?)    ARMS. 
Note.— Right  arm  won't  straighten  out.     Left  can't  bend  enough  to  button  a  collar. 


122 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

The  Champion  Has  Something  to  Say 
About  Managers  in  General. 

I  consider  1904  my  most  successful  year  of  fighting, 
as  it  led  me  up  to  the  point  where  I  could  take  things 
easy  and  have  some  say  as  to  the  amount  of  money  I 
was  to  get  for  engaging  in  fights.  I  had  finally  boxed 
my  way  to  the  coveted  heights  where  nestled  such 
famous  pugilists  as  Art  Simms,  Jack  O'Neill,  Spider 
Welsh,  Martin  Canole,  Eddie  Hanlon,  Aurelia  Herrera, 
Young  Corbett  and  Sir  James  Edward  Britt —  the  latter 
pair  and  Hanlon  champions. 

The  year  1904  also  brought  me  in  touch  with  a  regu- 
lar manager.  Up  to  this  time  I  had  been  training  and 
taking  care  of  myself.  I  had  also  made  all  my  matches, 
and  had  never  carried  such  excess  baggage  as  trainers 
or  managers.  Besides,  those  fellows  are  not  strong  for 
riding  on  the  trucks.  I  acted  as  my  own  "secretary  and 
treasurer,"  and  to  this  day  I  regret  that  I  didn't  follow 
out  that  policy  to  the  letter.  My  failure  to  do  so  cost 
me  over  $50,000,  and  I  am  not  mentioning  any  names, 
either,  Mr.  William  Nolan. 

AS  TO   NEED  OF   MANAGER. 

The  need  of  a  manager  is  a  very  interesting  feature 
of  the  prize  ring.  While  I  admit  that  some  young  fight- 
ers find  it  absolutely  necessary  to  have  some  one  to  get 
them  matches,  the  wise  boy  can  do  pretty  well  for  him- 
self unless  he  gets  into  one  of  those  places  where  the 
managers  have  the  fight  clubs  sewed  up.  I  have  known 
of  frame-ups  where  a  fighter  would  not  be  permitted  to 
appear  unless  he  gave  a  manager  a  percentage  of  his 
earnings. 

There  are  many  boys  who  are  good  fighters  but  are 

123 


124  BATTLING   NELSON 

ignorant  of  the  ways  of  the  world,  and  especially  as  to 
business  methods.  They  absolutely  need  a  manager,  as 
they  could  never  get  a  chance  to  make  a  reputation  un- 
less he  paved  the  way  by  getting  good  matches  and  see- 
ing that  they  were  not  robbed  out  of  their  small  purses. 
On  the  other  hand,  a  boy  who  works  himself  up  to 
the  top  does  not  need  a  manager,  in  the  accepted  mean- 
ing of  the  word,  when  he  becomes  a  champion,  as  he 
can  dictate  his  own  terms  more  or  less,  to  the  club  man- 
agers. All  he  needs  is  a  fellow  to  look  after  details,  such 
as  referees,  etc.  The  last  man  I  had  to  look  after  my 
affairs  was  Willis  Britt,  and  I  want  to  say  right  here 
that  he  is  the  best  one  I  ever  had. 

The  manager  usually  exacts  a  large  per  cent,  of  the 
purse  from  the  young  fighter.  I  have  known  some  of 
them  to  get  as  high  as  60  per  cent.  I  think,  however, 
that  25  per  cent,  is  enough.  You  know  that  is  a  lot  of 
money  when  the  fighter  gets  as  much  as  $25,000  for  one 
fight. 

TAKES  CRACK   AT    NOLAN. 

As  I  said  before  I  paid  Billy  Nolan  $50,000.00  in  less 
than  two  years,  and,  well — then  I  cut  loose  from  him 
and  went  out  on  my  own  hook.  I  have  done  much  better 
financially  since. 

No  fighter  can  look  after  the  details  of  a  fight  after  he 
reaches  the  position  of  champion.  He  must  have  some- 
body to  stay  up  nights  and  look  out  for  any  jobs  that 
are  about  to  be  framed  up.  There  are  a  thousand  and 
one  other  little  things  that  must  be  looked  after.  When 
a  man  is  training  he  must  not  be  worried  with  anything, 
and  it  is  absolutely  essential  that  he  gets  his  regular 
sleep.  No  fighter  can  hold  a  championship  and  run 
about  at  night. 

FOUGHT  NINE  BATTLES  IN  IQO4. 

I  participated  in  nine  engagements  during  1904,  fight- 
ing 115  rounds.  I  succeeded  in  winning  seven  battles, 


BATTLING   NELSON  125 

five  of  which  were  won  by  the  knockout  with  my  left 
half  scissors  hook.  I  fought  one  exhibition  with  Tommy 
Markham  in  the  copper  district  of  Utah,  known  as 
Eureka.  I  lost  my  first  battle  .with  Jimmy  Britt,  as 
many  of  my  readers  will  remember,  when  Referee  Billy 
Roach,  the  "Honest  Bowery  Boy"  (as  he  is  called), 
gave  a  very  bum  decision.  The  crowd  present  will  bear 
witness  of  this  fact. 

The  following  year,  1905,  however,  I  hooked  James 
Edward  into  Snoozeville,  in  eighteen  rounds  at  Colma, 
Cal.,  on  Admission  Day,  winning  the  white  lightweight 
championship  of  the  world." 

KNOCKS  OUT  THE  "ARTFUL  DODGER." 

I  was  feeling  pretty  good  leaving  St.  Joseph,  Mo., 
after  the  fine  trimming  which  I  handed  Clarence  Eng- 
lish, and  I  rolled  into  Milwaukee  several  weeks  later  and 
was  matched  to  take  on  Artie  Simms,  "The  Artful 
Dodger,"  as  I  called  him.  I  was  not  a  full  fledged  light- 
weight, and  was  fighting  around  128  to  130  pounds. 
Simms  was  in  his  prime  and  was  rated  as  the  king-bee 
of  all  the  boys  fighting  in  the  Central  and  Middle  West 
States.  We  hooked  up  on  the  night  of  Jan.  16,  1904, 
at  the  Milwaukee  Athletic  Club.  This  club  is  located  on 
the  top  floor  of  the  Wells  Building,  and  is  possibly  as 
near  heaven  as  I  have  ever  had  a  boxing  match. 

Simms  during  the  early  stages  of  the  fight  persisted 
in  crowding  me  about  the  ring  with  his  furious  rushing 
tactics.  Oh !  but  that  was  peach  pie  for  me,  as  he  was 
playing  right  into  my  hands  as  English  had  done  a  few 
weeks  previously.  I  combed  his  hair  a  few  times  in  the 
early  rounds  just  to  see  how  he  would  stand  the  gaff. 
He  came  back  hard  at  me  in  the  second  round  with  the 
same  line  of  stuff  and  I  got  busy.  I  turned  the  tables 
on  him  before  the  close  of  the  round  and  hammered 
him  all  about  the  ring,  forcing  him  to  clinch  on  every 
opportunity. 

In  round  three,  which  proved  to  be  the  last,  I  knocked 


126  BATTLING   NELSON 

him  down  twice.  The  last  time  he  was  out  for  good. 
Artie  Simms,  poor  fellow,  had  boxed  with  me  at  Gil- 
more's  training  quarters  on  several  different  occasions 
and,  of  course,  he  being  at  that  time  one  of  the  cleverest 
as  well  as  one  of  the  most  popular  in  the  country,  fig- 
ured that  he  could  outbox  me.  I  surprised  him,  as  well 
as  the  majority  of  the  fans  present,  by  stopping  him  in 
such  workmanlike  style.  He  was  practically  knocked  out 
until  next  afternoon.  We  were  badly  worried  about  him. 

The  first  thing  he  said  next  morning  about  10  o'clock, 
when  he  came  out  of  the  trance,  was  "Who  took  my 
wife  away?"  Then  he  lapsed  off  into  unconsciousness 
again  for  several  hours.  Abe  Pollock,  the  popular  Chi- 
cago sporting  man,  acted  as  referee  of  this  bout. 

There  is  somewhat  of  a  coincidence  attached  to  this 
fight.  You  see  I  knocked  Simms  out  in  the  third.  But 
still  I  didn't  win  until  round  four.  You  see  the  bell 
saved  Art  from  taking  the  full  count.  Nevertheless,  he 
was  out  proper,  and  I  have  him  on  my  record — knocked 
out  in  round  three.  All  records  please  follow. 

KILLS   THE    MILWAUKEE    HOODOO. 

Feb.  5,  1904,  marked  my  final  appearance  in  Milwau- 
kee. Jack  O'Neill,  the  speedy  little  Western  fighter, 
who  was  about  "it"  at  that  time.  By  the  way,  he  was 
cleaning  up  all  the  better  class  of  lightweights  in  the 
short  six-round  goes  in  the  East. 

As  it  was  my  sixtieth  battle  I  wanted  to  celebrate  the 
occasion  with  one  of  my  best  knockouts.  Right  off  the 
reel  "Jack  the  Slugger,"  as  he  was  called  back  East, 
crossed  me  on  the  jaw  with  his  right  and  put  me  flat  on 
my  back,  though  I  was  up  and  after  him  in  a  jiffy. 
He  was  a  splendid  boxer,  very  fast  on  his  feet,  and  his 
work  in  a  short  bout  was  showy — much  on  the  order  of 
Freddie  Welsh,  the  boy  whom  I  now  consider  the  great- 
est of  shadow  or  "butterfly"  boxers.  O'Neill  would 
have  probably  won  the  decision  over  me  that  night  had 
he  been  content  to  have  stood  off  and  boxed  with  me. 


BATTLING   NELSON  127 

But  no — he  wanted  to  finish  me  in  the  first  round,  as 
he  went  after  me  like  a  shot  out  of  a  cannon,  and  espe- 
cially after  being  so  lucky  as  to  floor  me  he  picked  up 
courage  and  went  after  me  to  do  or  die. 

If  O'Neill  ever  made  a  mistake  in  his  life  he 
made  it  in  this  fight  by  trying  to  outslug  me,  as  I  beat 
him  every  inch  of  the  going,  and  in  the  fifth  and  sixth 
rounds  he  was  just  barely  able  to  stand. 

I,  of  course,  won  the  affair  by  a  Hegewisch  block, 
which  means  a  mile.  When  the  train  pulled  out  for 
Chicago  a  few  days  later  I  was  a  happy  kiddo.  I  had 
finally  succeeded  in  downing  that  old  Milwaukee  goat, 
and,  besides,  my  airship  was  now  hitting  the  high  alti- 
tudes in  the  pugilistic  atmosphere.  I  licked  O'Neill 
again  in  Philadelphia  later  on. 

GOES  TO  UTAH. 

With  the  scalps  of  Clarence  English,  Artie  Simms 
and  the  famous  Jack  O'Neill  under  my  belt  I  felt  that  I 
needed  greater  fields  to  conquer,  so  I  borrowed  carfire 
from  my  life-long  friend,  Billy  Benner,  and  steamed 
into  Utah,  on  my  way  to  the  glorious  golden  West. 

As  I  landed  in  Salt  Lake  City,  S.  J.  Kelley,  match- 
maker of  the  Salt  Lake  City  Athletic  Club  was  in  need 
of  a  substitute  to  meet  Spider  Welsh,  as  the  fighter  who 
had  been  booked  with  him  had  taken  sick  and  was 
unable  to  appear.  I  being  on  the  ground,  ready  and 
willing  to  fight  anybody,  even  if  it  was  for  a  ham  sand- 
wich, made  the  match  and  signed  to  meet  the  Spider  on 
April  6.  We  were  matched  to  go  twenty  rounds  to  a 
decision,  purse  to  be  split  60  and  40  per  cent.  I  trained 
hard  for  the  battle  and  stepped  into  the  ring  fit  as  a 
fiddle. 

The  Spider,  as  his  name  would  imply,  was  as  slippery 
as  an  eel,  and,  besides  being  very  clever,  he  showed  me 
a  line  of  straight  jabs  which  hurt  some. 

He  was  a  combination  of  the  clever  boxer  and  heavy 
hitter.  We  went  sixteen  of  the  speediest  and  most 


BATTLING   NELSON 


BATTLING   NELSON  129 

vicious  rounds  of  fighting  the  good  citizens  of  the  dear 
old  Mormantown  ever  viewed. 

Welsh  had  the  edge  on  me,  as  I  remember,  up  to 
about  the  fifth  round.  I  had,  however,  shaken  him  up 
severely  myself  in  the  clinches,  and  was  quick  to  see 
that  the  hard  pace  was  telling  on  him.  I  played  some- 
what of  a  waiting  game  up  to  the  twelfth,  until  I  heard 
the  fans  shouting  "Finish  the  Dane,  Spider!  he  can't 
last  it  out!"  Then  I  got  busy  and  forced  that  big  mob 
to  turn  about  and  yell  frantically  for  me.  I  forced  the 
Spider  to  climb  back  into  his  web  and  in  the  fifteenth 
I  hurt  him  badly. 

FINISHES   THE    SPIDER. 

In  the  sixteenth  round  I  went  to  the  Spider  with  the 
steam  turned  on  full  blast,  determined  to  do  or  die,  but 
try  as  I  might,  I  couldn't  put  the  Spider  to  the  floor.  I 
was  sure  enough  beating  him  to  a  pulp.  In  about  the 
middle  of  the  round,  fearing  I  might  kill  him,  I  refused 
to  punish  him  any  longer  and  appealed  to  the  referee 
asking  him  to  stop  the  fight.  At  the  same  time  William 
Lynch,  Chief  of  Police,  jumped  into  the  ring  to  stop 
the  slaughter,  and  to  prevent  what  looked  like  the  ruina- 
tion of  one  of  the  gamest  fighters  that  ever  put  on  a 
glove. 

Like  the  gamester  that  Welsh  is  he  fought  on  as 
best  he  could,  and  when  Referee  Willard  Beam  led  him 
to  his  corner  he  collapsed  in  his  chair  as  soon  as  he  dis- 
covered he  had  lost  the  fight.  The  chief  was  just  a 
little  late  to  accomplish  his  purpose  as  has  been  proven 
since,  as  Spider  Welsh  never  fought  a  winning  fight, 
although  he  made  several  attempts  against  inferior 
fighters  afterward. 

Since  the  Welsh  fight  I  have  maintained  that  Utah 
soil  was  very  lucky  for  me.  First,  because  I  considered 
that  my  winning  fight  at  Salt  Lake  City  was  the  real 
starting  point  of  my  successful  career;  second,  because 
after  my  first  fight  with  Cans  at  Goldfield,  when  nearly 


130  BATTLING   NELSON 

everybody  in  the  country  thought  I  was  "all  in"  pugil- 
istically_  speaking,  I  secured  a  match  with  Jack  Clifford 
at  Ogden,  a  good  tough  fighter,  who  had  been  the  stum- 
bling block  for  more  than  one  champion,  and  I  knocked 
him  out  in  five  rounds.  This  made  the  sporting  public 
sit  up  and  take  notice. 

From  that  time  on  there  was  no  stop  to  me.  It  was 
one  continual  climb  to  a  match  with  Champion  Cans, 
which,  by  the  way,  is  now  a  matter  of  history.  More 
than  once  I  have  met  the  same  Spider  Welsh  since,  and 
by  the  way  felt  sorry  to  think  I  had  checked  his  fighting 
career. 

While  my  manager  was  dickering  with  the  different 
fight  clubs  about  terms,  etc.,  I  took  a  trip  up  to  the  cop- 
per district  known  as  Eureka,  and  boxed  an  exhibition 
with  Tommy  Markham,  for  which  I  was  handed  a  five 
case  note. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


The  Battler  Begins  His  Real  Championship 
Career  by  Defeating  Martin  Canole. 

In  May,  1904,  I  really  began  my  championship  career. 
After  beating  Spider  Welsh  I  became  a  great  drawing 
card.  Fight  clubs  all  over  the  country  were  after  me. 
I  was  in  a  position  now  to  have  a  say  as  to  the  terms 
regarding  purses,  etc.  It  had  been  a  hard  climb,  but  I 
was  near  the  top.  You  can  imagine  how  happy  it  made 
me  when  I  wrote  to  my  mother  that  I  was  beginning  to 
make  money  hand  over  fist.  I  told  her  there  would  be 
no  more  tramping  and  riding  on  trucks  for  Battling 
Nelson,  the  little  Dane  who  some  years  before  had  tri- 
umphed over  the  Swedes  in  Hegewisch. 

Beginning  on  May  20,  when  I  fought  Martin  Canole. 
up  to  November  20,  when  I  knocked  out  Young  Corbett, 
I  did  not  lose  a  fight.  Canole,  Hanlon,  Herrera  and 
Corbett  fell  before  my  mitts  in  succession.  During  this 
period  of  exactly  six  months  I  drew  down  in  purses 
exactly  $6,800,  and  in  addition  to  this  I  made  a  little 
over  $5,000  in  side  bets  and  exhibitions. 

KNOCKS  OUT  MARTIN  CANOLE. 

After  my  decisive  win  over  Spider  Welsh,  the  Cali- 
fornia favorite,  Alex  Greggains,  of  the  San  Francisco 
Athletic  Club,  offered  me  a  match  with  Martin  Canole, 
who  had  made  good  in  San  Francisco  the  previous  year 
by  his  grand  showing  against  the  pet  of  the  Golden 
West,  Jimmy  Britt.  I  was  now  to  take  the  tough  ones ! 

I  immediately  accepted  and  started  for  San  Francisco 
in  company  with  my  manager,  Teddy  Murphy.  On  our 
arrival  we  signed  articles  of  agreement,  the  fight  to  take 
place  on  the  coast,  I  was  anxious  to  make  a  good  show- 
ing, and  immediately  adjourned  to  the  training  quarters 

131 


132 


BATTLING   NELSON 


at  the  Beach  Tavern  and  worked  into  the  best  possible 
shape  for  the  battle.   I  secured  Frank  Newhouse,  whom  I 


consider  one  of  the  ablest  handlers  of  fighters  in  the 
world,  to  train  me. 

On  the  night  of  the  battle  we  "shied  our  castors," 
whatever  that  means,  at  Woodward's  Pavilion.  Canole, 
with  a  long  string  of  victories  over  classy  fighters,  was, 


BATTLING   NEL.SON  138 

of  course,  a  heavy  favorite,  the  betting  being  10  to  2^2 
against  yours  truly.  Despite  this  I  started  off  to  beat 
Canole.  I  met  him  in  his  own  corner  at  the  jump,  but 
he  feinted  and  swung  a  left  on  my  jaw,  and  to  my  sur- 
prise he  dropped  me  flat  on  my  back.  I  thought  I  had 
been  hit  by  the  Brooklyn  Bridge.  This  only  served  to 
irritate  me,  as  I  quickly  recovered  and  it  made  me  fight 
all  the  more. 

CANOLE  "WAS   VERY   CLEVER. 

Canole  so  outclassed  me  in  cleverness  that  in  the  third 
round  such  "wise  critics?"  as  Spider  Kelly  got  up  and 
left  the  building  and  were  followed  by  one  hundred  more 
fight  fans. 

"What  a  lemon  this  Hegewisch  Dane  is,"  said  Kelly. 

I  knew  I  was  being  badly  outpointed,  nevertheless  I 
figured  I  was  outfighting  Canole.  I  cracked  him  one  on 
the  liver  and  in  the  seventh  round  Canole  practically 
admitted  defeat,  as  before  he  left  his  corner  he  rubbed 
his  gloves  in  the  resin,  expecting  to  cut  me  up  by  jabbing 
his  gloves  in  my  face.  That  is  an  old  trick  of  fighters. 

From  that  time  on  the  tide  of  battle  turned  in  favor 
of  the  Dane,  who,  many  had  thought,  had  been  led  to 
slaughter,  and  only  the  referee  and  timekeeper  saved 
Canole  from  being  knocked  out  long  before  it  happened. 
On  four  or  five  different  occasions  when  I  had  him  down 
and  out  the  timekeeper  rang  the  bell,  ending  the  round 
as  much  as  two  minutes  before  the  stipulated  time. 

In  the  eighteenth  round  I  hooked  my  hard  left  on 
Canole's  jaw  and  he  dropped  as  though  hit  with  a  base- 
ball bat.  He  lay  limp  as  a  rag  and  never  stirred  while 
counted  out. 

Canole  was,  indeed,  a  very  hard  nut  for  me  to  crack 
at  best.  He  was  wonderfully  clever,  game  as  a  tiger, 
and  carried  with  these  virtues  a  hard  punch,  excellent 
head  and  clever  footwork. 

HAS    HIS    FIRST    TEMPTATION. 

Right  here   I  met  the  temptation  of  my  life,  and   I 


134  BATTLING   NELSON 

overcame  it.  You  can  well  imagine  how  gleeful  I  felt 
after  beating  one  of  the  first  class  fighters,  known  all 
over  the  United  States.  I  felt  inclined  to  celebrate.  I 
wanted  to  go  out  in  the  town  and  enjoy  myself.  You 
can  say  what  you  please  about  boys  or  men  caring  noth- 
ing about  the  opinion  of  the  public,  but  it  is  all  rot.  I 
wanted  to  hear  what  they  all  had  to  say.  In  other 
words,  I  felt  just  like  bubbling  over  and  taking  in  the 
town.  I  had  never  taken  a  drink  in  my  life,  but  this 
night  I  think  I  would  have  taken  one  if  I  hadn't  fought 
off  that  temptation  to  "go  out  with  the  boys." 

Something  kept  saying  to  me,  and  it  was  like  the  voice 
of  my  old  mother  in  Hegewisch:  "Now,  Bat,  because 
you  are  successful  don't  go  out  and  make  a  fool  of  your- 
self." These  words  would  keep  coming  to  me,  and  I 
went  back  to  the  training  quarters  to  think  it  over. 

TEMPTATION  GETS  A  KNOCKOUT. 

All  this  time  I  had  been  reading  the  papers  and  I  had 
read  where  many  of  the  former  champions  had  thrown 
themselves  away  while  celebrating  their  victories.  I  was 
not  yet  a  champion,  but  I  was  awful  close  to  it.  I  had 
fought  my  way  all  over  the  country  and  I  felt  as  if  the 
magic  title  was  almost  in  reach. 

"No,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  'Battling'  Nelson  will  stick 
it  out  right  here.  I  will  do  no  celebrating  and  running, 
around  at  nights  until  I  am  comfortably  fixed."  Then 
111  know  better. 

It  was  a  hard  tussle,  but  I  fought  that  temptation  until 
I  knocked  it  out  and  it  went  the  way  of  the  others  whom 
I  have  defeated.  Having  won  out  in  my  mind  I  went 
to  bed  and  slept  peacefully. 

As  you  can  imagine  my  victory  over  Canole  had  made 
me  the  talk  of  San  Francisco  and  the  managers  were 
after  me.  I  fought  Canole  at  133  pounds  and  the  back- 
ers of  Eddie  Hanlon,  who  was  a  great  boy  in  his  day, 
offered  to  fight  me  at  130  pounds,  weigh  in  at  3  o'clock. 
They  thought  I  would  have  trouble  in  making  the 


BATTLING   NELSON  136 

weight,  but  I  fooled  them  and  grabbed  at  the  chance.  I 
could  have  fought  at  128  pounds,  but  they  didn't 
know  it. 

DEFEATS  EDDIE   HANLON. 

The  fight  was  arranged  to  take  place  on  July  29,  to  go 
twenty  rounds  at  the  same  old  spot,  Woodward's 
Pavilion. 

Hanlon,  game  as  a  pebble  and  a  shifty,  hustling  boy 
like  Canole,  went  after  me  to  gain  the  twenty  round  de- 
cision on  points.  He  danced  around  me  like  an  escaped 
kitten  during  the  early  stages  of  the  fight,  but  I  soon 
solved  his  style  and  began  wearing  him  down,  fighting 
fiercely  in  the  clinches.  Game  little  fellow  that  he  is,  he 
met  me  at  my  own  game. 

HANLON   MEETS  BAT  AT  HIS  OWN  GAME — SLUG. 

Slug?  Why,  that  little  fellow  made  me  sit  up  and 
take  notice.  He  did  chug  me  several  mean  blows  in  the 
wind,  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  he  had  me  worried  a  little 
at  the  start.  The  kid,  however,  was  not  strong  enough 
to  keep  up  his  dashing  pace,  and  gradually  I  saw  him 
slowing  down.  Then  I  got  busy.  In  the  seventeenth 
round  I  started  in  to  finish  him,  and  by  the  time  we 
reached  the  nineteenth  round  poor  Eddie  could  barely 
stand,  and  I  toppled  him  over,  winning  amid  thundering 
applause. 

For  the  first  time  in  my  fighting  career,  I  received 
more  than  $1,000  for  my  bit,  the  officials  of  San  Fran- 
cisco handing  me  $1,250  for  my  share  of  the  purse.  I 
also  won  several  nice  side  bets  as  well.  By  this  time 
the  San  Francisco  sporting  public  were  beginning  to 
think  seriously  of  the  "Battling  Dane/'  as  Waldmar 
Young,  one  of  the  sporting  writers  there,  dubbed  me 
after  this  battle. 

Immediately  after  winning  over  Hanlon  the  fight  pro- 
moters made  a  rush  for  me.  One  of  them — then  un- 
known— Billv  Nolan,  matchmaker  of  the  Butte  Athletic 


136 


BATTLING   NELSON 


BATTLING   NELSON  137 

Club,  wired  my  manager,  Teddy  Murphy,  already  known 
as  the  "Boy  Manager,"  offering  a  $1,000  purse  for  a 
twenty  round  battle  with  Aurelia  Herrera  for  Labor 
Day,  Sept.  5,  1904.  Murphy,  showing  signs  of  a  clever 
manager,  did  not  reply  immediately.  He  put  the  contest 
up  to  the  highest  bidder  and  Uncle  Tom  McCarey,  of 
Los  Angeles,  and  Nolan  bid  against  each  other  for  three 
days,  when  Nolan  came  through  with  an  offer  of  a  $3,500 
purse  and  transportation  from  San  Francisco  to  Butte, 
then  to  Chicago.  We,  of  course,  considered  this  the 
best  inducement  available,  and  accepted.  We  journeyed 
over  to  the  high  altitudes  of  Montana  and  began  hard 
training  for  the  fray. 

I  knew  that  I  would  be  a  rank  outsider  in  the  betting, 
as  Herrera  had  beaten  every  opponent  he  had  fought  in 
the  City  of  Butte,  knocking  out  such  tough  ones  as  Jack 
Clifford  nine  rounds,  Kid  Broad  four  rounds,  and  Benny 
Yanger  in  eight  rounds.  I  was  willing  to  take  a  chance, 
however,  and  went  ahead  with  my  preparations. 

Less  than  a  year  previous  to  our  fight  I  had  been  en- 
gaged as  Herrera's  sparring  partner  around  Chicago, 
working  for  the  sum  of  $10  per  week.  Consequently  I 
knew  his  style  to  a  "T"  and  thought  from  my  experience 
with  him  that  I  could  get  him.  He  also  thought  he 
could  defeat  me. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


Bat  Says  Aurelia  Herrera  was  One  of 
the  World's  Greatest  Fighters. 

While  I  felt  confident  that  I  could  lick  Aurelia  Her- 
rera, I  was  in  for  one  of  the  greatest  surprises  of  my 

life,  or  rather,  of 
my  prizefighting  ca- 
reer. 

I  had  trained 
faithfully  and  was 
in  such  perfect  con- 
dition that  as  I 
made  my  way  to  the 
ring  I  felt  as  if  I 
could  beat  Jim  Jeff- 
ries. On  the  way  I 
stopped  in  a  pool 
room  and  found  the 
odds  against  me 
were  10  to  7.  I  bet 
$1,000  on  myself  at  those  odds,  and  as  that  was  the  larg- 
est amount  I  had  ever  bet  I  felt  that  I  simply  had  to 
win.  We  fought  in  an  open-air  arena  built  specially  for 
the  occasion  down  on  the  flats  of  Butte.  It  was  in  the 
afternoon,  and  as  it  was  a  national  holiday — Labor  Day, 
1904 — we  drew  by  far  the  largest  crowd  that  ever  at- 
tended a  boxing  match  in  Montana. 

I  want  to  say  right  here  that  Aurelia  Herrera  was 
the  greatest  whirlwind  fighter  that  ever  lived.  He  could 
hit  like  a  trip  hammer  and  he  was  so  fast  that  his  arms 
worked  like  the  piston  rods  on  the  New  York  Central 
"Twentieth  Century  Limited"  engine  going  at  the  rate 
of  one  hundred  miles  an  hour.  When  least  expected 
his  fist  would  shoot  out  like  the  head  of  a  snake  and 

138 


BATTLING   NELSON  139 

down  you  would  go.  As  you  all  know,  he  is  a  Mexican, 
and,  incidentally,  he  is  the  only  good  Mexican  fighter 
that  we  have  had. 

HERRERA  MIGHT  HAVE  BEEN   CHAMPION. 

If  Herrera  had  taken  care  of  himself  he  might  have 
been  the  champion.  He  was  of  a  peculiar  surly  disposi- 
tion, however,  and  made  few  personal  friends.  He  was 
the  idol  of  the  Westerners,  though,  because  he  could 
always  be  depended  upon  to  cash  a  bet.  He  had  been 
knocking  out  everybody  that  stood  before  him,  and  no 
matter  what  his  personal  habits  might  have  been  his 
fighting  ability  made  him  strong  with  the  fight  fans. 

I  knew  Herrera's  style  perfectly,  for  I  had  formerly 
been  employed  as  his  sparring  partner  in  Chicago  at  a 
salary  of  $10  a  week.  I  felt  in  my  heart  that  I  could 
beat  him  if  I  could  stand  oft"  those  terrible  rushes  which 
were  sure  to  come  in  the  first  two  rounds.  He  not  only 
could  deliver  a  knockout  punch  but  he  could  take  one. 

I  shall  never  forget  how  surprised  Terry  McGovern 
was  when  he  hit  him  a  right-hand  swing  on  the  jaw  in 
the  first  round  at  'Frisco. 

"Why,  he  didn't  budge  an  inch,"  said  McGovern.  "I 
landed  a  beaut  on  the  point  of  his  jaw  and  it  was  just 
like  hitting  a  Marvin  safe..  My  mitt  bounded  off  like  a 
pebble  and  he  came  right  back  at  me." 

Knowing  these  things  I  had  to  be  extremely  careful. 

MEXICAN   AN   INVETERATE  SMOKER. 

Herrera  was  one  of  the  first  great  fighters  who  suc- 
ceeded without  training.  He  never  paid  the  least  atten- 
tion to  the  ordinary  rules  about  taking  care  of  himself. 
He  was  a  stockily  built  fellow,  with  immense  power  in 
his  shoulders.  He  fought  in  a  style  peculiarly  his  own. 
In  other  words,  Herrera  was  one  of  the  wonderful  freaks 
of  the  ring.  He  was  dark  and  swarthy — a  typical  Span- 
iard. He  smoked  cigars  continually  and  kept  a  bottle 
of  whiskey  in  his  training  quarters  all  the  time.  He 


140  BATTLING   NELSON  • 

took  a  drink  whenever  he  felt  like  it  and  ate  what  he 
pleased.  He  would  go  out  for  a  run  on  the  road  with 
a  cigar  in  his  mouth.  On  many  occasions  I  have  seen 
him  go  to  sleep  with  a  cigar  held  between  his  teeth, 
and  he  would  often  smoke  one  before  he  got  up  the  next 
morning.  But  that  didn't  keep  him  from  hitting. 

Knowing  all  these  things  as  I  did  I  was  more  than 
anxious  to  beat  the  husky  Mexican,  for  I  felt  that  if  I 
could  lick  him  I  could  lick  anybody  in  the  world. 

BAT   HAD  TOUGH   JOB  BEFORE   HIM. 

As  we  were  a  little  afraid  of  having  the  bout  stopped, 
I  got  over  to  the  ringside  early,  reaching  there  about  two 
o'clock.  There  I  found  Herrera  smoking  a  cigar  and 
full  of  confidence.  I  had  not  seen  him  for  some  time, 
and  we  shook  hands  in  a  friendly  way.  He  never  was 
any  too  friendly  with  anybody,  but  he  appeared  to  like 
me  even  when  I  was  his  sparring  partner.  . 

After  some  delay  one  of  the  officials  came  to  the 
dressing  room  and  told  us  that  everything  had  been 
fixed  with  the  State  authorities  and  that  the  fight  would 
go  on.  We  lost  little  time  in  getting  to  the  ring. 

Herrera  was  the  favorite  with  the  crowd  as  well  as 
in  the  betting.  Out  there  he  was  the  hero,  and  the 
people  didn't  seem  to  like  the  idea  of  an  outsider  taking 
any  of  his  honors  away. 

Finally  I  got  under  the  ropes  and  received  some  ap- 
plause, but  not  so  much  as  my  Mexican  opponent. 

After  the  gallant  style  in  which  he  had  been  knocking 
out  all  his  opponents  in  Butte,  Herrera  felt  absolutely 
confident  and  he  started  out  to  finish  me  in  a  hurry.  I 
fought  him  very  cautiously  and  kept  away  from  his  ter- 
rible swings  until  the  fourth  round.  Up  to  this  time  the 
honors  had  been  about  even.  But  right  here  I  came  in 
for  the  biggest  surprise  of  my  life. 

HERRERA  KNOCKS  BAT  TO  MAT. 

We  had  just  gotten  together  in  a  clinch,  and  I  was 


BATTLING   NELSON 


141 


backing  away  witn  my  head  down.  I  had  no  sooner 
turned  loose  his  arm  when  he  swung  a  short  swing 
squarely  on  top  of  my  head.  I  felt  as  if  somebody  had 
hit  me  with  a  sledge  hammer.  I  turned  a  complete 
somersault  and  fell  flat  on  my  back,  my  head  hitting  the 
mat  first.  I  looked  up  and  could  see  the  Mexican  stand- 
ing over  me  with  a  vicious  look  in  his  eyes.  He  was 
ready  to  finish  me.  In  fact,  he  thought  I  was  already 
out.  But  I  wasn't.  I  took  a  few  seconds  of  the  count 
and  then  regained  my  feet. 

Aurelia  tore  after  me  like  an  infuriated  tiger,  putting 
every  ounce  of  strength  he  possessed  into  his  punches. 

He  was  somewhat 
dazed  when  he  found 
that  he  had  not 
knocked  m  e  o  u  t.  I 
was  the  first  man  on 
whom  his  punch  had 
failed.  I  then  sur- 
prised him  some  more 
by  standing  up  toe  to 
toe  and  meeting  him 
blow  for  blow.  Before 
the  end  of  the  round 
I  succeeded  in  hooking 
my  left  half-scissors 
a  hook  into  his  liver  and 
J]  forced  him  to  cover 
*  up.  Astheround 
closed  he  was  hanging 
on  for  dear  life. 

I  did  my  best,  but  I 
could    not    succeed    in 

BATTLER  AT  AGE  OF  ?  ?  ?  knocking  him  out.  The 

latter  rounds  were  all  my  way,  and  at  the  end  of  the 
twentieth  I  had  piled  up  such  a  lead  that  I  was  handed 
the  decision  on  a  silver  platter.  Not  a  man  kicked  on 
the  verdict,  and  the  bets  were  paid  off  without  a  ques- 


142  BATTLING   NELSON 

tion.     Duncan  McDonald  was  referee,  and  his  decision 
was  cheered  by  the  crowd. 

NOW    READY    TO    MEET    CHAMPION. 

As  soon  as  I  could  get  dressed  I  hurried  over  to  the 
pool  room  and  collected  nearly  $2,500  on  my  bet,  which 
included  the  original  $1,000  that  I  had  put  up. 

This  victory  put  me  in  direct  line  for  the  champion- 
ship, and  from  then  on  I  began  pursuing  the  great  stars 
of  the  ring.  Having  licked  Canole,  Hanlon  and  Herrera, 
the  fight  managers  had  to  recognize  my  right  to  chal- 
lenge the  topnotchers,  and  in  the  long  run  I  forced  these 
fellows  to  give  me  a  chance. 

With  my  natty  little  manager,  Teddy  Murphy,  a  string 
of  sparring  partners  and  Trainer  Frank  Newhouse  I 
rolled  back  to  San  Francisco  in  a  special  Pullman.  My 
signal  victory  over  the  great  Herrera,  of  course,  had 
been  widely  published  in  the  fair  'Frisco  papers,  and  I 
was  fast  becoming  a  public  personage  thereabouts. 

When  I  reached  San  Francisco  I  found  that  Young 
Corbett,  who  had  lost  his  crown  to  Jimmy  Britt,  was  in 
town.  I  was  after  a  fight  with  Britt,  however,  and  went 
straight  to  him  first. 

ARRANGES    FOR    FIGHT    WITH    CORBETT. 

"Go  and  get  a  reputation  for  yourself,"  said  James 
Edward.  "You  will  have  to  lick  Corbett  before  you 
can  talk  to  me  about  a  fight."  Britt  refused  to  listen 
to  any  conversation  at  all  until  after  I  had  tried  out 
Corbett,  "the  marvellous  slugger." 

I  saw  that  there  was  no  chance  of  getting  Britt  to 
fight,  so  my  manager  went  out  to  find  Corbett  and  see 
what  kind  of  terms  he  could  make.  After  a  long  argu- 
ment, in  which  one  of  the  club  officials  took  part,  we 
finally  agreed  on  a  match.  We  were  to  fight  in  'Frisco 
on  November  29  at  Woodward's  Pavilion. 

Young  Corbett  was  then  in  his  prime,  and  I  need  not 
say  that  he  was  a  great  fighteV.  Next  to  Herrera,  he  was 


BATTLING   NELSON  143 

the  hardest  hitter  among  us  little  fellows,  but  he  was 
not  so  snappy  a  hitter  as  the  Mexican.  His  style  of  rush- 
ing in  at  a  fellow  like  a  bear  and  shooting  out  a  million 
rights  a  second  were  bad  things  to  get  in  front  of. 

Britt  licked  Corbett  because  he  was  the  better  boxer 
and  stayed  out  of  harm's  way  and  won  the  decision. 
That  policy  won  for  him  the  championship. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Nelson  Gets  in  Reach  of  Championship 
by  Knocking  Out  Young  Corbett. 

I  knew  that  I  would  win  the  championship  of  the 
world  after  I  had  fought  four  rounds  with  Young  Cor- 
bett. He  was  a  wonderful  slugger  as  well  as  a  fair 
boxer.  While  he  had  just  been  defeated  by  Britt  I  knew 
that  if  I  could  lick  him  I  could  down  the  champion, 
because  James  Edward  relied  so  much  on  his  boxing 
skill. 

I  regard  Young  Corbett  as  one  of  the  greatest  fight- 
ers this  country  has  ever  seen.  He  was  a  terrific  hitter, 
though  he  could  not  deliver  as  snappy  a  blow  as  Aurelia 
Herrera.  Corbett  was  a  very  smart  fellow,  however, 
and  in  the  matter  of  brains  Herrera  could  not  be  com- 
pared with  him. 

Corbett  knew  that  the  quickest  way  to  get  a  fighter's 
goat  was  to  tantalize  him  so  that  he  would  lose  his  tem- 
per and  begin  swinging  wildly.  That  is  the  way  he  al- 
ways succeeded  in  beating  Terry  McGovern.  Terry 
couldn't  stand  the  kidding. 

CORBETT  A  TANTALIZER. 

Corbett-  would  first  try  his  man  out  by  roasting  him 
as  a  fighter,  and  if  that  didn't  succeed  he  would  say 
things  that  were  personally  insulting.  His  opponent 
would  then  get  angry  and  rush  at  him  with  wild  swings. 
That  was  just  what  Corbett  wanted,  for  he  was  as  game 
a  fighter  as  ever  lived,  and  he  loved  nothing  better  than 
a  chance  to  rough  it. 

I  was  somewhat  of  a  rougher  myself  and  I  figured  that 
I  would  be  able  to  beat  Corbett  at  his  own  game.  He 
was  pretty  sour  over  his  defeat  by  Britt,  and  I  believe 
that  he  still  maintains  that  Britt  was  not  entitled  to  the 

144 


BATTLING   NELSON  145 

decision  which  lost  him  the  championship.  That  took 
some  of  the  spirit  out  of  him.  Admitting  he  is  a  jolly, 
good-natured  fellow,  in  the  ring  he  is  nasty  as  can  be. 

I  was  in  excellent  condition,  and  we  agreed  on  a  match, 
and  it  didn't  take  long  to  get  in  shape.  All  I  needed 
was  a  little  loosening  up. 

Though  I  felt  confident  when  I  stepped  into  the  ring 
with  the  great  slugger  I  knew  that  I  had  a  job  before 
me.  You  can  take  it  from  me  that  Corbett  gave  me 
an  awful  fight  for  the  first  few  rounds.  If  the  decision 
had  been  given  on  points  at  the  end  of  the  fourth  round 
I  guess  he  would  have  been  the  victor.  I  was  stalling 
around,  however,  to  find  out  wherein  he  was  weak.  I 
finally  discovered  the  spot — his  wind.  I  then  began 
beating  a  tattoo  on  his  ribs,  and  occasionally  I  would 
get  a  chance  to  soak  that  left  half  scissors  hook  on  his 
liver.  When  he  would  bend  over  I  would  crack  him  on 
the  ear  to  make  him  dizzy. 

CORBETT  HAD  PECULIAR  STYLE. 

Corfoett  had  a  peculiar  style  of  fighting  that  T  had 
never  seen  before  and  if  I  had  not  been  very  careful  he 
might  have  got  me.  He  would  start  on  a  rush  at  me, 
shooting  his  arms  out  like  piston  rods.  It  looked  as  if 
he  had  a  thousand  arms,  and  I  want  to  tell  you  that  it 
was  a  dangerous  thing  to  stand  before  that  rush. 

He  had  a  tantalizing  way  of  kidding  me  while  in  close 
and  I  got  as  angry  as  a  hornet.  I  didn't  mind  his  kid- 
ding until  he  got  personal,  and  then  he  stirred  up  the 
lion  in  me  and  I  more  than  paid  him  back  with  the 
walloping  that  I  gave  him. 

"Whoever  told  you  you  could  fight?"  he  said  to  me. 
"Why,  you're  a  joke."  I  didn't  say  a  word,  but  kept 
right  on  getting  madder  every  minute.  Finally  I  landed 
on  his  jaw,  but  he  simply  shook  it  off  and  came  back. 

"Huh,  I  thought  you  were  a  hitter,"  he  said  to  me  in 
a  clinch.  "You  couldn't  put  a  dent  in  a  Charlotte 
Russe." 


146 


BATTLING   NELSON 


BATTLING   NELSON  147 

"Say,  kid,"  he  said  to  me  later  on,  "what's  the  name 
of  that  town  that  you  come  from?"  I  was  furious  and 
was  almost  on  the  point  of  replying,  but  I  caught  my- 
self very  quickly  and  barely  dodged  a  punch  headed 
straight  for  my  mouth. 

"You've  got  an  awful  nerve/'  he  said  again,  "to  be 
fighting.  You  ought  to  go  back  to  work  as  a  hash 
slinger." 

CORBETT  BEGINS  TO  TOTTER. 

In  the  tenth  round  I  began  poking  him  in  the  ribs 
so  hard  that  he  commenced  to  totter,  but  he  didn't  stop 
his  kidding.  He  got  insulting  this  time.  I  got  very 
angry  and  pasted  him  an  awful  welt  on  the  liver.  He 
bent  over. 

"Jump  in  the  ring,  you  fools,"  yelled  one  of  the  crowd 
to  Corbett's  trainers,  "and  keep  your  man  from  being 
killed." 

Corbett  was  still  bending  over  and  I  jammed  my  right 
into  his  wind.  He  sank  to  the  floor  and  Trainer  Tuthill 
jumped  into  the  ring  and  carried  the  former  cham- 
pion to  his  corner.  He  was  completely  knocked  out. 

This  was  the  worst  licking  that  Corbett  had  ever  re- 
ceived, and  for  administering  the  dose  I  received  $2,700. 

FOLLOWING    IS    THE    TENTH     ROUND    IN    DETAIL    AS    SENT 
OVER  THE  ASSOCIATED  PRESS  WIRES. 

Nelson  led  off  with  full  swing  right  on  the  jaw.  Cor- 
bett rallied  and  let  go  right  and  left,  missing  every  time. 
Nelson  stepped  in  close  again  and  smashed  him  repeat- 
edly in  the  face.  Ringsiders  yelled  to  Corbett's  sec- 
onds, "Jump  in  the  ring,  you  fools,  and  save  your  man 
from  being  killed."  The  Dane  struck  out  slowly  putting 
more  force  into  his  blows.  Corbett  was  bent  over  and 
apparently  ready  to  sink  to  the  floor,  when  Nelson 
upper  cut  him  a  hard  right  to  the  body ;  Corbett  sinks 


148 


BATTLING   NELSON  149 

to  the  floor  and  Trainer  Tuthill  jumps  into  the  ring  and 
carries  Corbett  to  his  corner  a  badly  beaten  man. 

KNOCKS  OUT  CORBETT  AGAIN. 

I  was  forced  to  fight  Corbett  again  later  on,  so  that 
I  could  have  a  second  match  with  Britt.  The  Britt  af- 
fair will  come  up  later.  All  of  you  readers  know  how 
Britt  was  given  a  very  questionable  decision  over  me  in 
my  first  fight.  Before  I  could  get  a  return  match,  how- 
ever, I  had  to  fight  Corbett  again.  At  that  time  I  feared 
him  really  more  than  I  did  Britt.  Corbett  was  there 
with  a  vicious  knockout  all  the  time — Britt  was  not. 

On  Feb.  28  Corbett  and  Yours  Truly  went  at  it  again 
at  Woodward's  Pavilion,  the  place  of  our  former  bat- 
tle ground.  The  fight  enthusiasts  of  San  Francisco  had 
been  won  over  to  my  side  long  ere  this,  and  a  week 
before  the  fight  it  was  common  gossip  in  the  town  that 
I  would  again  beat  down  the  Denver  champion.  Their 
predictions  proved  only  too  true.  Corbett  made  a  very 
fair  showing  with  me  in  the  early  rounds  only.  I 
knocked  him  down  in  the  fourth  round,  and  as  he 
was  taking  the  count  I  went  over  to  him  and 
told  him  to  "get  up"  and  not  go  down  until  he  was  hit. 
Corbett  was  infuriated  by  my  taunting  him,  and  arose 
enraged  like  a  wildcat.  He  swung  a  hard  right  into 
my  body  and  broke  one  of  my  ribs,  and  to  this  day  I 
have  a  large  lump  there  as  a  souvenir  of  this  battle. 
That  was  the  worst  punch  that  I  ever  took. 

The  ninth  round  had  hardly  begun  when  I  cut  loose 
a  series  of  right  and  left  hooks  and  down  he  went  flat 
on  his  back  and  was  counted  out  by  Referee  Jack  Welsh. 

My  share  of  the  gate  amounted  to  $3,500.  I  and  my 
backer,  Billy  Benner,  won  several  side  bets  amounting 
to  $5,000 

ENDS  CORBETT'S  CAREER. 

That  practically  ended  the  career  of  one  of  America's 
greatest  fighters.  Corbett  from  that  time  began  to  de- 


150  BATTLING   NELSON 

cline,  and  he  has  not  won  an  important  battle  since. 
Notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  had  roasted  me  un- 
mercifully in  the  ring,  I  always  have  had  a  spark  of 
sympathy  in  my  heart  for  him,  for  he  was  certainly  a 
game  little  fellow.  More  than  that,  he  was  a  real  fighter. 
He  was  not  one  of  those  showy  boxers  who  rely  on  the 
referee's  decision  to  win.  Corbett  wanted  to  either  win 
or  lose  by  a  knockout.  Like  myself,  he  didn't  like 
those  decisions  on  points. 

I  also  sympathized  with  him  because  the  decision  was 
given  against  him  in  his  fight  with  Britt,  and  I  was 
handed  the  same  dose.  Not  that  I  wish  to  boast  about 
it,  but  I  was  treated  worse  than  Corbett.  But  I  will 
bring  that  up  in  my  next  chapter. 


WHY  BATTLING  NELSON  FIGHTS. 

The  following   letter  was  written  by  Prof.   Mike  Donovan  and  sent  to  George  Siler 
and    re-mailed   to   tha    Battler    at    Hegewisch,    Illinois. 

NEW  YORK  CITY,  Dec.  3rd,  1904,  Geo.  Siler,  Chicago 
Tribune. — Friend  George:  Battling  Nelson's  brilliant  victory 
over  William  Rothwell,  "YOUNG  CORBETT,"  at  San  Fran- 
cisco, California,  Thursday  night,  revealed  a  domestic  drama 
which  at  one  time  threatened  to  be  a  tragedy.  The  story  of 
the  boy's  struggles  against  great  odds  and  his  rapid  ascent  as 
a  pugilist,  conceals  behind  it  the  fact  that  for  years  Nelson  has 
fought  with  two  objects.  His  objects  were  outside  the  prize 
ring.  He  fought  his  way  towards  the  championship  with  but 
two  ideas — to  pay  the  mortgage  on  his  mother's  home  on 
Superior  avenue,  Hegewisch,  and  to  win  back  the  love  and  ad- 
miration of  his  father,  brothers  and  sister.  His  mother's  love 
and  tenderness  he  has  had  all  the  time.  Practically  driven 
away  from  home  because  his  family  objected  to  his  chosen 
profession,  forbidden  scores  of  times  by  his  father  to  enter  the 
ring,  pleaded  with  by  his  mother  who  feared  he  would  get  hurt, 
Nelson  insisted.  The  boy  had  fought,  and  fought  desperately,  in 
order  that  the  debt  might  not  worry  his  father— in  order  that 
his  brothers  and  sister  might  go  to  school  and  get  better  educa- 


BATTLING   NELSON  161 

tions ;  and  he  has  steadily  urged  the  other  boys  not  to  follow  in 
his  footsteps— to  keep  out  of  the  fighting  game. 

This  is  a  story  sure  to  arouse  the  admiration  of  such  a  man 
as  JOHN  WALLACE  CRAWFORD,  and  was  a  worthy  in- 
spiration of  the  following  poem: 

Your  friend,  PROF.  MIKE  DONOVAN, 

N.  Y.  A.  C,  New  York  City. 

BATTLING   NELSON. 

I  have  no  use  for  fighters — 

(Prize  fighters,  as  they  go) 
For  as  a  rule  they're  mostly  full 

Of  bluster,  brag  and  blow — 
But  when  a  boy  is  fighting 

For  love  of  home  and  Mother, 
With  honest  smile,  I'll  doff  my  tile 

And  proudly  call  him  Brother. 

I  have  no  use  for  bullies — 

A  "bull  pug"  makes  me  sick, 
But  in  the   game   of  "Home   Sweet   Home," 

I  want  to  take  a  trick. 
So    I'm    for    Battling    Nelson, 

And  I'm  glad  to  call  him  Brother- 
He  must  be  right  in  every  fight 

Because  he  loves  his  mother. 

I  have  no  use  for  loafers, 

Or  snobs  whose  talk  is  "smart"— 
No  bar-room  "Jag"  to  bluff  and  brag, 

About  the  manly  art. 
But  when  I  meet  a  fellow, 
Among  the  motley  crowd, 
Who  on  the  level,  beats  the  devil, 
Keeping  clean  and  true — 

And  who  abstains  from  liquor, 

(The  thief  that  downed  JOHN  L.) 
You  hear  me  toot,  I  want  to  shoot, 

And  sing  and  laugh  and  yell- 
So  here's  to  BATTLING  NELSON 

The  lad  who  fights  to  win, 
Whose  love  and  wit  supply  the  grit — 

And  love  will  pardon  sin. 

JOHN  WALLACE  CRAWFORD. 


.1 


K  P 

"  « 

s 


i! 


152 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

Nelson  Describes  His  First  Fight  with 
Jimmy  Britt  for  the  Championship. 

Aside  of  my  natural  ambition  to  win  the  lightweight 
championship,  one  of  the  strongest  reasons  I  had  for 
my  desire  to  lick  Sir  James  Edward  Britt  was  because 
he  wore  a  high  hat  and  a  Prince  Albert  coat.  It  may 
sound  like  a  ''kid,"  but,  on  the  level,  it  made  me  awful 
sore  to  see  a  prizefighter  going  around  in  those  swell 
togs,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  some  day  I  would 
bring  him  down  to  the  class  where  he  belonged. 

In  those  days  it  was  somewhat  of  a  job  for  a  fighter 
to  lick  Britt  because  he  always  fought  on  the  coast, 
and  to  get  a  decision  over  him  on  points  out  there  was 
like  trying  to  slip  the  Washington-  monument  through 
the  eye  of  a  needle. 

After  I  had  licked  Corbett,  however,  there  was  noth- 
ing for  Britt  to  do  but  to  meet  me  as  he  had  promised. 
I  was  doomed  to  a  bitter  disappointment,  however,  be- 
fore I  finally  won  the  championship. 

BRITT   HAD  ONE   GOOD   PUNCH. 

Britt  is  a  strong,  game,  clever  fighter.  The  only  man 
that  ever  made  Britt  show  the  white  feather  was  Joe 
Cans.  I  gave  him  a  much  worse  beating  than  Cans  did, 
but  the  minute  he  saw  the  black  fellow  in  the  ring  he 
practically  threw  up  his  hands  and  admitted  defeat.  In 
his  fight  with  all  the  other  lightweights  Britt  was  game 
to  the  core.  I  never  could  exactly  understand  why  he 
let  Cans  get  his  goat. 

While  Britt  was  a  very  clever  boxer  he  was  lacking 
in  a  hard  punch.  He  hit  me  numerous  times  on  the 
jaw,  but  could  not  even  jostle  me.  He  had  one  punch, 
though,  that  was  a  wonder.  It  was  a  low  left-hand 

153 


154  BATTLING   NELSON 

swing  that  was  a  half  uppercut  and  half  hook.  He 
would  rip  this  into  a  fellow's  stomach,  and  as  a  rule  it 
was  a  winner.  It  was  one  of  the  best  punches  that  has 
ever  been  used  in  the  ring. 

Though  I  had  been  clamoring  for  a  fight  for  a  long 
time,  this  was  my  first  meeting  with  the  pride  of  the 
Golden  West,  and  I  certainly  had  my  troubles  all  the 
way  through.  Britt  did  not  stand  up  and  fight  me,  but 
danced  around  the  ring  from  the  very  start  to  the  finish 
of  the  fight.  As  a  result,  I  hardly  got  a  chance  to  knock 
him  out,  although  in  the  thirteenth  I  laid  him  flat  on 
his  back  for  the  count  of  nine. 

REFEREE  WAS  HARD  ON  BAT. 

I  did  get  a  hold  on  him  several  times  and  came  very 
close  to  putting  the  hooks  on  him,  but  Referee  Roach, 
who,  it  seemed,  was  fighting  Britt's  battle,  roughly 
pulled  me  away  or  stepped  in  front  of  me,  blocking  my 
punches  aimed  at  his  pet — James  Edward. 

In  the  sixteenth  round  I  finally  kidded  Mr.  Britt  into 
a  slugging  match,  a  thing  which  I  had  been  trying  all 
during  the  fight,  but  without  avail.  I  had  been  walking 
into  Sir  James  without  ever  guarding  a  blow,  trying  to 
get  him  to  swap  punches,  and. this  was  my  first  oppor- 
tunity to  get  him. 

Mr.  "Wise"  Spider  Kelly,  falling  for  the  act,  yelled 
to  Britt  to  Knock  'im  out !"  and,  of  course,  Jimmy  tried 
to  do  everything  his  seconds  told  him. 

I  took  all  his  punches  for  about  forty-five  seconds 
and  backed  up  a  step  to  lead  him  on.  I  didn't  try  to 
hit  back  at  all,  when  suddenly  I  noticed  Jimmy  step 
back.  Then  I  knew  he  was  tired,  and  I  thought  it  was 
time  to  set  sail  and  deliver. 

TORE   INTO  THE   CHAMPION. 

I  jumped  out  of  my  supposed  trance  like  a  flash  of 
electricity  and  tore  after  Sir  James,  determined  to  do  or 
die,  and  I  knocked  him  practically  out  and  over  the 


BATTLING   NELSON  155 

ropes/  when  his  seconds  grabbed  him  in  order  to  save 
him  from  falling  from  the  ring;  at  the  same  time  the 
timekeeper  rang  the  bell  to  save  the  Pride  of  the  Golden 
West.  My  timekeeper  who  held  the  watch  protested, 
claiming  that  there  had  been  just  two  minutes  of  fight- 
ing during  this  round,  but  it  was  not  allowed. 

The  story  of  the  battle  is  too  well  known  and  is  prob- 
aly  fresh  on  the  minds  of  the  public,  so  I  see  no  need 
of  going  into  lengthy  details  in  describing  it.  To  this 
day  I  contend  that  Britt  had  no  business  accepting  the 
decision.  I  have  since  demonstrated  that  I  was  his 
master.  I  was  his  master  then,  though  the  battle  did 
terminate  in  a  very  unsatisfactory,  manner  for  me.  My 
wounded  feelings,  however,  were  somewhat  healed 
when  the  officials  handed  Manager  Murphy  a  real  pack- 
age of  greenbacks  containing  $5,600. 

This  was  the  most  money  I  had  received  for  one 
fight  up  to  that  date.  t 

BAT'S    MANAGER    IS    MISSING. 

The  day  following  when  I  looked  for  Teddy  Murphy, 
the  forty-two-year-old  boy  manager,  as  Wally  Young, 
one  of  the  sporting  writers  on  the  coast  had  dubbed 
him,  he  was  impossible  to  locate. 

Up  to  date  he  had  not  been  prompt  in  settling,  and  I 
was  anxious  to  do  business  in  a  business-like  manner. 
Hence  my  anxiety  to  find  him.  When  I  did  meet  him 
he  made  an  excuse  of  business  engagements  and  prom- 
ised to  meet  me  the  next  day.  I  went  to  the  appointed 
spot,  but  failed  to  find  Murphy  and,  of  course,  became 
very  much  worried. 

As  Eddie  Santry,  my  former  sparring  partner,  was  to 
depart  for  Chicago,  I  figured  Murphy  most  likely  would 
be  at  the  ferry  to  see  him  off.  I  hurried  to  the  ferry  and 
found  Murphy  and  Santry  checking  their  trunks.  When 
I  accosted  Murphy  for  an  explanation  he  informed  me 
that  he  was  merely  there  to  see  Santry  off.  I  had  a 
dinner  appointment  and  therefore  couldn't  cross  the 


156 


BATTLING   NELSON  157 

bay  with  them.  On  my  way  back  I  dropped  into  Harry 
Corbett's  for  my  mail.  On  top  of  the  cash  register  lay 
the  secret  inclosed  in  an  envelope — it  was  from  the 
"boy"  manager.  I  recognized  the  handwriting  as  being 
from  Teddy  and  immediately  became  very  suspicious. 

I  opened  it  and  there  found  a  note  with  a  hundred 
dollar  bill  inclosed.  The  letter  stated  that  he  had  been 
called  home  on  account  of  sickness  in  the  family  and  a 
lot  of  "bull,"  etc.  I  felt  positive  then  that  it  was  his 
intention  to  run  off  with  my  bankroll,  and  I  immediately 
got  busy. 

The  police  chief  and  Captain  Burnett  instantly  wired 
instructions  to  Stockton,  advising  the  authorities  there  to 
arrest  Murphy  and  Santry.  Next  day  Detective  Taylor 
was  sent  to  Stockton  and  brought  Murphy  and  San- 
try  back  to  San  Francisco,  where  we  settled  our  dif- 
ficulties. 

After  that  Murphy  and  I  severed  connections  for 
good. 

AFTER    BRITT    AGAIN. 

I  have  already  told  how  I  defeated  Corbett  a  second 
time.  I  now  felt  as  if  I  was  entitled  to  a  return  match 
with  Britt,  so  I  got  hot  on  his  trail. 

As  I  had  knocked  Corbett  out  twice  the  San  Fran- 
cisco press  and  the  public  at  large  demanded  of  Britt 
to  show  his  colors  and  fight  me.  He  finally  agreed 
to  sign  a  temporary  set  of  articles  and  posted  a  $2,500 
forfeit  with  Harry  Corbett  for  a  fight  to  take  place 
some  time  in  July.  This  was  done. 

Two  clauses  were  inserted  in  the  articles — one  that 
I  was  not  allowed  to  engage  in  any  fight  that  went  over 
six  rounds,  the  other  that  I  must  be  on  San  Francisco 
soil  not  later  than  July  I  for  signing  of  final  articles. 

FIGHTS    ABE    ATTELL. 

As  I  was  under  the  care  of  Dr.  Charles  A.  Clinton 
because  of  my  broken  rib  gotten  during  the  Corbett 
fight,  I  found  it  impossible  to  fight  for  a  few  weeks.  J 


158  BATTLING   NELSON 

went  to  the  mountains  hunting  for  a  month  on  the  doc- 
tor's advice. 

In  the  meantime  San  Francisco  sport  writers  had 
chronicled  the  story  of  my  gallant  victory  over  Young 
Corbett  through  the  East,  and  as  a  result  I  was  very 
much  in  demand  thereabouts.  I  received  offers  from 
the  Philadelphia  Club  to  fight  three  battles,  at  $1,500 
per  fight,  to  go  six  rounds,  no  decision — they  to  name 
my  opponents. 

It  was  here  that  I  met  Abe  Attell.  We  fought  six 
slashing  rounds  with  the  usual  "no  decision"  result.  I 
received  $1,500  for  my  end. 

MY   RING   EXPERIENCES   WITH   THE   NEGRO   POPULATION. 

During  my  twelve  busy  years  of  fighting  I  have  met 
just  five  different  negroes  out  of  a  string  of  nearly  100 
battles.  I  feel  proud  of  stating  "No  Colored  Man  Ever 
Conquered  Me."  Many  of  my  readers  may  take  excep- 
tion to  this  statement,  but  it  is  nevertheless  true.  I  was 
not  defeated  by  Joe  Cans  at  Goldfield,  Nevada. 

The  referee  sure  enough  did  decide  that  I  hit  the 
negro  foul.  His  opinion  should  not  be  taken  as  abso- 
lutely the  whole  truth  against  mine — the  man  whom  he 
accused  of  striking  the  alleged  foul  blow. 

This  fight  is  now  a  matter  of  history.  I  demonstrated 
fully — to  the  public — on  July  4  and  September  9  of  this 
year  (1908)  that  I  was  this  same  negro's  master  by 
licking,  trouncing,  beating  and  battering  him  into  a  mass 
of  "black  Jung,"  if  such  a  slang  phrase  may  be  used. 

My  success  in  boxing  him  clear  off  the  pugilistic  map 
twice  within  eight  weeks  should  go  far  in  clearing  me 
of  the  "foul  claim"  charged  against  me  at  Goldfield, 
Nevada,  in  1906.  Shouldn't  it? 

If  Joe  Cans  wants  to  make  the  hit  of  his  life  and 
win  the  friendship  of  "The  Battler,"  as  I  am  called,  he 
will  come  out  and  tell  the  exact  conditions  of  that  al- 


BATTLING   NELSON  159 

leged  foul — yes,  tell  how  he  worked  upon  the  poor  eye- 
sight of  old  George  Siler. 

In  the  year  of  1900,  when  a  mere  kid,  I  was  knock- 
ing around  Chicago  and  vicinity  making  heroic  efforts 
to  become  recognized  as  a  fighter.  Naturally  I  was 
compelled  to  take  on  any  fighter  the  club  officials  saw 
fit  to  match  me  with,  and  as  a  result  had  to  tie  up  with 
several  tough  Negro  scrappers. 

It  was  in  July  of  that  season  that  I  met  the  first  Negro 
boxer — one  Feathers  Vernon,  a  man  who  was  at  that 
time  looked  upon  as  a  pretty  tough  coon  in  and  around 
Englewood,  "one  of  Chicago's  beautiful  suburbs." 

The  story  in  detail  of  this  great  scrap  is  given  in 
another  chapter  of  the  book  and  needs  no  recounting 
here.  We  fought  six  rounds  and  was  one  of  those  no 
decision  affairs.  I  received  a  five  dollar  note  for  the 
job. 

In  the  following  November  I  met  Black  No.  2 — Black 
Griffo,  also  one  of  the  best  of  his  class  and  color  fight- 
ing around  Chicago.  He  had  been  dubbed  "Black 
Griffo,"  because  of  his  style  of  fighting  and  general 
actions  in  the  ring — it  much  resembled  that  of  the  noted 
Australian  fighter — Young  Griffo. 

We  fought  before  the  old  Twelfth  street  Turner 
Hall,  corner  of  Twelfth  and  Halsted  streets,  Chicago, 
run  by  Silvie  Ferreti.  Black  Griffo  lasted  but  three 
rounds,  being  cracked  into  dreamland  with  my  favorite 
punch,  a  "left  half  scissors  hook"  on  the  liver,  where 
I  usually  have  been  getting  them  all  ever  since,  particu- 
larly the  negro  boxing  population. 

Mistah  Edward  Jackson  Burley  was  the  way  they  an- 
nounced the  arrival  of  my  third  colored  opponent  at 
Billy  Gain's  Club  at  Logan  Square,  Chicago,  on  that 
quiet  cool  evening  of  November  22,  1900.  Fifteen 
minutes  later  Mr.  Edward  Jackson  Burley  was  carried 
out  of  the  ring  on  a  wheelbarrow  with  his  "burlaps" 
very  much  disturbed.  Oh !  it  was  a  shame  to  do  it,  but 
I  was  fighting  on  an  empty  stomach  and  needed  the 


160 


BATTLING   NELSON 


money  badly  for  coffee  and  sinkers.  Five  rounds  was 
all  he  lasted,  and  $5.00  was  what  I  got.  "A  dollar  a 
round."  I  dined  at  Flynn  Bros,  on  State  street  after 
the  bout  and  must  say  I  felt  better  indeed  after  winning 
from  Burley  and  eating  a  good  meal. 

MY    PRIDE    HURT. 

The  Danes,  as  Burke's  Irish  history  tells  us  so  plainly, 
were  the  boys  who  populated  and  set  at  rest  all  war 
and  strife  in  Old  Ireland  many,  many  "rounds"  ago. 
Well,  I'm  a  Dane  all  right,  and  as  most  of  the  Irish  are 
no  doubt  related  to  me  in  one  way  or  the  other,  through 
ancient  descent,  I  have  a  feeling  for  most  of  them — 
that  is,  the  good  ones.  So  when  on  St.  Patrick's  Day, 


BAT  NELSON,   "COON  HUNTER." 


BATTLING   NELSON  161 

March  17,  1901,  when  the  Chicago  papers  announced 
the  fact  that  Bat  Nelson  was  going  to  meet  Black 
Griff o  again  at  the  Sheridan  Club,  I  had  a  spasm.  The 
idea  of  me  fighting  a  negro  on  St.  Patrick's  Day? 
What  would  my  Irish  friends  say?"  Sur'n,"  said  "Big 
Jack"  Powell,  pitcher  for  the  St.  Louis  American 
League,  "Bat  don't  hav'  any  broachins  about  Oireland 
an'  yer  bein'  our  cousins,  an'  not  wantin'  t'  foight  on 
Paddy's  birthday,  but  go  in  me  Batthler  an'  knock 
th'  devil's  head  off  th'  coon.  Ye'  don't  hate  thim  anny 
more  thin  Oi  do." 

I  followed  Jack's  instructions  to  the  letter  and  it 
required  but  three  rounds  to  accomplish  the  task.  I 
received  $15.00  for  my  work,  and  again  celebrated  at 
my  old  standbys — Flynn  Bros,  restaurant  and  treated 
myself  and  friends  to  the  proper  feed  on  such  a  night 
— "corn  beef  and  cabbage" 

All  the  training  I  got  for  this  fight  was  at  the  Haw- 
ley  Down  Draught  Furnish  Co.  (on  the  north  side  of 
Chicago),  swinging  a  sledge  through  the  day.  On  the 
eve  of  battle  I  got  off  early  so  as  to  get  a  bath,  hair 
cut  and  a  shave,  and'  then  I  was  in  condition  for  the 
fight. 

The  Negro  who  gave  me  the  hardest  battle  of  all 
the  coons  was  one  Mistah  Christopher  Columbus  Wil- 
liams. This  coon  had  a  jaw  like  the  hull  of  the  battle- 
ship Ohio,  and  it  required  seventeen  gruelling,  slashing 
rounds  to  shove  him  gently  into  "slumberland."  It  is 
a  little  out  of  the  ordinary,  but  a  regular  occurrence  at 
Hot  Springs  to  have  the  brass  band  at  the  ringside.  I 
will  never  forget  when — in  the  seventeenth  round — I 
put  "Christy,"  .as  he  was  called  over  the  ropes,  down 
and  out.  The  band  set  up  the  tune,  "All  Coons  Look 
Alike  to  Me"  "I  Don't  Care  If  You  Never  Come  Back," 
and  wound  up  with  "Home,  Sweet  Home."  The  crowd 
filed  out. 

All  this  time  Williams'  handlers  were  trying  to  re- 
vive him.  All  my  seconds,  my  brother  Johnnie  and 


162  BATTLING   NELSON 

Charlie  Peterson  and  myself  were  dancing  with  glee 
over  winning.  In  the  seventeen  rounds  I  fought  with 
Williams  I  was  punished  more  than  I  was  in  all  the 
three  long  .fights  I  had  with  Cans. 

I  received  for  this — one  otf  the  hardest  fights  of 
my  life — $39.50  for  my  end. 

Negro  Cans  was  the  last  of  my  colored  victims. 
There  are  detailed  accounts  of  all  his  fights  in  other 
chapters  of  my  book,  so  I  won't  go  into  detail  here.  I 
might  mention  that  at  Goldfield,  Nevada,  Sept.  3,  1906, 
I  made  him  quit  under  punishment  in  the  forty-second 
round,  although  he  was  awarded  the  decision  on  an 
alleged  foul.  On  July  4  and  Sept.  9,  1908,  I  knocked 
Cans  out  twice — 17  and  21  rounds,  respectively,  be- 
fore Coffroth's  Mission  Street  Arena,  both  times  at 
Colma,  Cat. 


BATTLING   NELSON 


163 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Nelson  Survived  Trick  That  Might 
Have  Ruined  His  Career. 

This  chapter  brings  me  up  to  1905 — the  year  I  won 
the  championship.  I  was  touring  around  the  country 
engaging  in  short  fights  before  going  to  California 
on  July  I,  when  I  was  to  sign  up  the  final  articles  of 
agreement  for  my  second  fight  with  Britt. 

While  engaging  in  one  of  these  six-round  affairs  I 
became  the  unsuspecting  victim  of  a  prize-ring  trick 
that  might  have  ended  all  my  championship  ambitions. 

As  a  rule,  the  public  knows  very  little  about  the  un- 
derhand methods  that  are  sometimes  resorted  to  in 
pugilism,  and  a  little  expose  right  here  might  be  inter- 
esting. 

At  that  time  Al  Herford  was  running  a  club  at  Balti- 
more and  at  the  same  time  managing  Kid  Sullivan.  He 
matched  Sullivan  and  me  at  his  club  and  agreed  to 
pay  me  $1,500,  guaranteed,  win,  lose  or  draw. 

Herford,  thinking  he  could  put  one  over  and  gain 
fame  for  one — Kid  Sullivan — felt  very  much  enthused 
over  the  match. 

BAT,   VICTIM    OF   TRICK. 

We  met  on  June  2,  and  were  to  go  six  rounds  to 
a  decision,  but  on  the  eve  of  battle  Herford  demanded 
that  we  fight  six  rounds  and  the  match  be  called  a 
draw  if  both  were  on  their  feet  at  the  finish.  He  re- 
fused to  give  up  more  than  $1,000  for  my  end.  This 
sum  I  demanded  be  handed  me  before  I  entered  the  ring. 

Later  this  proved  to  be  a  very  successful  move  on 
my  part. 

I  started  off  in  the  first  three  rounds  apparently  win- 
ning easy.  Herford,  Joe  Cans  and  Young  Peter  Jack- 

164 


BATTLING   NELSON  165 

son,  by  the  way,  all  of  whom  were  handling  Sullivan, 
became  uneasy,  fearing  I  would  knock  Sullivan  out. 
They  then  began  to  use  tricks  and  unfair  methods.  When 
Sullivan  went  to  his  corner  at  the  end  of  the  third 
round  some  of  his  handlers  smeared  belladonna  or  some 
drug  on  his  gloves.  Their  purpose  was  to  have  Sulli- 
can  smear  them  over  my  eyes  and  blind  me. 

Sullivan  during  the  entire  round  resorted  to  such 
sprinting  tactics  that  he  hardly  succeeded  in  getting  his 
gloves  to  my  face. 

Again  at  the  minute's  rest  between  the  fourth  and 
fifth  rounds,  his  seconds,  thinking  they  hadn't  applied 
sufficient  medicine  on  his  gloves,  smeared  on  an  extra 
heavy  dose,  which  almost  blinded  me  during  that  round. 

In  the  sixth  and  last  round  we  both  stepped  to  the 
centre,  and,  as  is  customary,  shook  hands.  This  time 
the  dope  had  been  applied  heavily  and  he  succeeded  in 
rubbing  the  besmeared  gloves  to  my  face.  In  a  moment 
I  was  almost  totally  blind. 

ALMOST  TOTALLY  BLIND. 

In  fact,  I  could  hardly  tell  Sullivan  from  the  referee 
and  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  ring  with  hands  ex- 
tended. No  one  knew  my  condition  but  myself,  and  I 
tried  to  hide  it.  Sullivan  rushed  into  me,  but  I  got 
close  and,  relying  on  my  fighting  instinct,  kept  follow- 
ing him  all  over  the  ring  until  the  finish.  On  one  occa- 
sion I  hit  the  referee,  thinking  he  was  Sullivan. 

The  decision,  of  course,  ha'd  to  be  a  draw,  as  Herford 
had  refused  to  allow  his  man  to  fight  until  we  had 
agreed  on  the  draw,  clause  if  both  men  were  on  their 
feet  at  the  end  of  the  sixth  round. 

Billy  Rocap,  the  referee,  failed  to  notice  that  Sulli- 
van's gloves  had  been  doped  until  the  finish  of  the  fight. 
I  was  then  totally  blind  and  had  to  be  led  to  my  corner. 
Rocap  asked  what  was  the  matter,  and  when  I  told  him 
he  immediately  went  to  Sullivan's  corner  to  try  and 


WORLD'S  WHITE 

LIGHT 

WEIGHT 

CHAMPIONSHIP. 


COLMA, 

CALIFORNIA, 

SEPTEMBER  9, 

1905 


'168  BATTLING   NELSON 

get  the  gloves,  but    Herford,    fox    that  he  is,  hustled 
Sullivan  away  and  refused  to  give  up  the  mitts. 

FIRST  APPEARANCE  ON  STAGE. 

My  appearance  in  the  East  had  created  quite  a  lot  of 
attention,  thanks  to  the  sporting  writers  and  the  fight 
fans,  and  I  was  a  little  bit  surprised  one  night  in  Phila- 
delphia when  it  was  suggested  to  me  that  I  go  on  the 
stage.  I  had  just  licked  Jack  O'Neill  in  a  six-round 
fight  and  was  feeling  pretty  good. 

The  stage  thing  kinder  got  my  goat,  however,  for  I 
couldn't  help  thinking  about  the  time  when  I  tried  to 
make  a  speech  after  my  fight  with  "Cross-eyed"  Mickey 
Riley.  That  was  the  time  the  fellow  hit  me  in  the  mouth 
with  a  silver  dollar  and  cut  off  my  further  conversation. 

I  saw  a  chance  to  make  some  money  out  of  it,  though, 
and  after  thinking  it  over  I  decided  to  take  a  chance. 
It  was  less  than  twenty-four  hours  from  that  time  that 
I  got  a  telegram  from  Harry  Farren,  manager  of  the 
Columbia  Theatre,  in  Boston,  offering  me  $700  for  a 
four  nights'  engagement,  in  addition  to  two  round-trip 
tickets  from  Philadelphia,  to  Boston.  I  accepted  imme- 
diately and  started  for  Boston. 

COULDN'T  MAKE  A  SPEECH. 

All  the  way  up  there  I  was  trying  to  think  what  kind 
of  a  speech  I  would  make.  I  knew  I  would  have  to 
say  something  in  addition  to  boxing  a  few  rounds. 

You  ought  to  have  heard  me  when  I  got  on  the  stage 
and  saw  all  those  people  looking  at  me.  I  made  two 
stabs  at  the  speech  and  then  quit  cold.  Never  again 
for  mine! 

Anyway,  I  drew  packed  houses  and  felt  that  I  had 
given  the  theatre  people  their  money's  worth.  On  my 
way  to  the  coast  I  showed  a  week  at  the  Trocadero  The- 
atre, in  Chicago,  and  got  $1,000  for  it.  But  there  was 
nothing  doing  in  the  speech  line. 

Now  that  it  was  getting  close  to  July  i  and     as  the 


BATTLING   NELSON  169 

special  clause  in  the  temporary  agreement  in  the  Xelson- 
Britt  articles  stated  that  I  must  be  on  California  soil  by 
July  I.  I  hustled  back  to  San  Francisco,  arriving  June 
30.  On  July  I  my  manager  and  I  went  to  Harry  Cor- 
bett's  place,  where  the  forfeits  had  been  posted,  to  meet 
Britt  and  his  manager,  where  we  were  to  sign  the  final 
articles. 

I  was  amazed  to  find  that  Britt  was  matched  to  fight 
Kid  Sullivan  instead  of  me,  and  that  he  had  pulled  down 
his  forfeit.  I  was  again  sidetracked  for  more  easy  game 
by  the  elusive  native  son,  Sir  James  Edward. 

BRITT  FORCED  TO  SIGN   UP. 

Later  on  public  sentiment  forced  Mr.  Britt  to  get  out 
and  do  something  to  show  that  he  was  capable  of  de- 
fending his  title  against  me.  Early  in  August  my  man- 
ager and  Britt's  brother,  Willus,  got  together  in  Cof- 
froth's  Belvidere  and  discussed  the  details  of  a  match. 
Jimmy  and  I  were  not  present  and  the  managers 
wrangled  for  three  days  before  a  final  agreement  had 
been  reached.  The  Britts  tried  every  means  imaginable 
to  lock  the  match,  but  were  unsuccessful.  They  held  the 
trump  card  and  dictated  almost  every  phrase.  The  Britt 
brothers,  thinking  I  would  balk  at  the  long  route,  stipu- 
lated that  the  battle  go  forty-five  rounds,  that  we  weigh 
in  at  133,  ringside,  also  that  we  must  bet  $10,000  on  the 
side  and  fight,  winner  take  all. 

Evidently  the  Britts  didn't  figure  that  they  were  play- 
ing right  into  my  hands  when  they  named  the  forty-five- 
round  route,  which  the  San  Franciscans  have  since 
named  the  "Battler's  route,"  because  I  can  go  over  the 
long  course  like  a  Derby  horse  over  a  Derby  route.  I 
conceded  him  each  and  every  point  and  would  have 
agreed  to  a  thousand  rounds  just  to  get  him  inside  the 
24-foot  ring. 

After  agreeing  to  all  the  conditions  named,  even  to 
a  percentage  of  the  gate,  the  Britts  balked,  demanding 


170  BATTLING   NELSON 

a  $20,000  guaranteed  purse,  with  the  privilege  of  65 
per  cent,  of  the  gross  gate  receipts. 

James  W.  Coffroth,  who  was  to  promote  the  match, 
readily  agreed  to  either  one  of  the  conditions — a  $20,000 
flat  guarantee  or  65  per  cent,  of  the  gross  gate  receipts. 

Just  as  negotiations  were  apparently  all  off  and  things 
became  darker  than  ever  and  the  parties  concerned 
started  to  adjourn,  we  took  the  last  resort.  My  backers 
guaranteed  Jimmy  Britt  the  $20,000  purse  for  me  and 
posted  $10,000  to  make  it  good,  and  were  willing  to 
gamble  on  a  percentage  basis  for  my  end. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


Battling  Nelson  Becomes  "White  Light- 
weight Champion  of  the  World 
by  Knocking  Out  Britt. 

On  Sept.  9,  1905,  I  finally  achieved  the  ambition  of 
my  life.  On  that  day  I  defeated  James  Edward  Britt 
by  a  knockout  at  Colma,  Cal.,  near  'Frisco,  and  became 
the  white  lightweight  champion  of  the  world. 

That  may  not  sound  as  big  to  you  who  read  it  as  it 
does  to  me,  but  to  have  that  title  in  front  of  a  fighter's 
name  means  both  fame  and  fortune,  as  well  as  the  satis- 
faction of  having  conquered  them  all. 

From  the  night  of  our  unsatisfactory  affair  of  Dec. 
20,  the  preceding  year  I  had  my  mind  set  on  meeting  the 
champion  again.  I  knew  full  well  that  I  could  beat 
him.  He  had  point  blank  refused  to  meet' me  until  I 
had  gone  out  and  whipped  the  men  that  he  had  selected. 
I  did  all  this  and  finally  got  him  backed  in  a  corner 
from  which  he  could  not  escape  and  he  had  to  agree  to 
fight  me  for  the  championship.  The  articles  of  agree- 
ment had  finally  been  signed  up  after  nine  months  of 
wrangling  in  which  I  had  taken  what  was  offered  me. 

Being  assured  that  everything  was  all  right,  I  went 
to  Joe  Millett's  training  quarters  at  Colma  and  began 
preparing  for  what  I  figured  the  fight  of  my  life. 

Everything  went  along  nicely  for  about  a  week  when 
the  Britts  balked  on  posting  the  $10,000  side  bet,  also 
refusing  to  fight — "winner  take  all."  I,  of  course, 
balked — wanting  the  side  bet  as  well  as  the  "winner 
take  all"  clause — but  sooner  than  lose  the  match  agreed 
to  their  terms.  But  when  I  conceded  to  their  demands 
I  refused  to  guarantee  the  $20,000  purse.  Thus  it  was 

171 


172 


BATTLING   NELSON 


that  we  fought  for  a  straight  65  per  cent,  of  the  house, 
with  a  cut  of  60  and  40,  winner  and  loser,  respectively. 

SQUABBLE  OVER  REFEREE. 

Everything  went  lovely  until  the  selecting  of  a  referee 
came  up,  and  this  almost  caused  the  disruption  of  what 
looked  like  the  fight  of  the  century.  We  agreed  on 
James  J.  Jeffries  to  officiate,  but  at  the  last  minute  Nolan 


BATTLING   NELSON  173 

heard  of  a  few  things  that  were  to  come  off,  and  being 
determined  to  take  no  chances,  we  point  blank  refused 
to  stand  for  the  big  boiler  maker  to  act  as  the  third 
man  in  the  ring.  The  battle  was  delayed  some  two 
hours  while  we  argued  over  this  matter. 

Finally,  we  agreed  to  accept  Eddie  Graney.  Jeffries 
stepped  down  and  out  and  Graney  took  possession  of 
the  bout.  Graney,  it  will  be  remembered,  promptly  de- 
clared all  bets  off  when  he  entered  the  ring.  The  battle 
went  seventeen  and  a  fraction  rounds.  In  this  bout,  as 
the  pictures  showed,  I  never  gave  an  inch  of  ground  to 
my  opponent.  I  forced  him  round  and  round  the  ring 
from  start  to  finish.  He  put  up  a  game  gruelling  fight, 
but  finally  caved  in. 

I  had  been  chasing  Britt  all  over  the  ring  for  seven- 
teen rounds,  but  could  not  induce  him  to  stand  up  and 
fight.  I  knew  that  if  I  ever  coaxed  him  into  swapping 
blows  with  me  that  I  would  get  him.  I  had  not  yet  had 
a  chance  to  land  on  his  liver  with  that  left  half  scissors 
hook  which  had  crumpled  up  so  many  of  my  opponents. 
But  I  was  waiting. 

When  the  gong  tapped  for  the  beginning  of  the  eigh- 
teenth round  I  rushed  at  him  like  a  tiger  and  began 
pounding  him  in  the  wind  for  all  I  was  worth.  He 
broke  away  and  ran.  Britt  then  turned  and  came  to- 
wards me  as  if  to  rush  me  off  my  feet.  I  knew  now  that 
I  had  his  goat.  I  met  his  rush  with  a  jab  in  the  nose 
that  staggered  him.  He  then  tried  to  break  ground 
again  in  the  hopes  of  getting  away  from  me.  I  kept 
punching  him  in  the  wind  as  fast  as  I  could  and  I  saw 
that  he  was  weakening.  I  felt  that  the  championship 
was  almost  within  my  grasp.  Nothing  could  stop  me 
now. 

LIKE   CAT   AND    MOUSE. 

I  determined  to  finish  him  in  that  round  if  I  had  to 
use  up  every  ounce  of  my  strength.  It  was  no  time  for 
stalling  or  attempting  to  box.  The  thing  left  for  me  was 


174  BATTLING   NELSON 

to  wear  him  down  while  he  was  weak.  Again  I  punched 
the  champion  on  the  liver  with  a  quick  jolt  and  he  began 
to  swing  with  arms  wildly.  He  threw  all  of  his  science 
to  the  wind  and  came  at  me  with  his  arms  going  like 
a  windmill.  I  do  not  like  to  appear  cruel,  but  as  I 
looked  at  him  I  thought  of  that  big  hat  and  Prince  Al- 
bert coat,  and  I  imagine  I  felt  very  much  as  a  cat  does 
that  has  a  mouse  in  a  corner.  I  was  waiting  for  a 
chance  to  get  another  stiff  punch  to  his  wind. 

Britt  made  the  mistake  of  his  life  when  he  tried  to 
mix  it  with  me  at  close  range.  Some  fellow  has  said 
that  I  am  the  "king  of  the  infighters,"  and  I  certainly 
felt  like  it  that  day.  "Chug,  chug,  chug,"  I  would 
crack  him  in  the  stomach.  In  two  more  seconds  he  was 
hanging  on  my  neck.  I  believe  he  would  have  fallen 
then  but  I  held  him  because  I  wanted  to  knock  him  out 
with  one  blow.  Referee  Graney  ordered  us  to  break, 
and  I  leaped  right  at  him  again.  I  was  almost  wild 
with  enthusiasm  now,  for  I  felt  that  I  had  the  cham- 
pion's measure. 

"Knock  him  out,  Jimmy!"  came  in  a  roar  from  the 
10,000  fans.  Everybody  was  standing  up  and  yelling 
their  heads  off.  They  were  all  Britt's  friends.  I  was 
out  there  all  alone,  but  I  knew  that  far  away  in  little 
Hegewisch  I  had  a  mother  who  is  my  friend.  Instead 
of  stopping  me  the  noise  made  me  work  all  the  harder. 

BRITT  GROWS  WILD. 

As  a  last  resort  Britt  abandoned  his  opening  tactics 
and  started  to  swap  blows  with  me.  It  was  "slug, 
slug,  slug."  We  were  chasing  all  around  the  ring. 
Towards  the  middle  of  the  round  Jimmy  made  one 
of  those  terrible  half-hooks  —  body  punches  which 
landed  flush  on  my  wind.  It  was  an  awful  blow,  but  I 
managed  to  shake  it  off  and  went  right  back  at  him. 
Britt  thought  that  his  blow  had  weakened  me  and  he 
made  a  .wild  lunge  as  if  to  finish  me.  Instead  of  back- 
ing away,  as  he  expected,  I  put  all  the  strength  I  had 


BATTLING   NELSON  175 

in  my  right  arm  and  let  fly  a  punch  which  caught  the 
champion  squarely  over  the  heart,  followed  by  a  left, 
right  and  another  quick  left  while  he  was  falling.  I 
shall  never  forget  that  moment.  Britt's  face  crumpled 
up  with  pain,  and  throwing  his  hands  up  over  his  head 
he  toppled  over  and  fell  on  all  fours,  but  immediately 
turned  over  flat  on  his  back.  He  was  knocked  out  as 
cold  as  a  wedge. 

At  that  I  couldn't  help  feeling  sorry  for  him  as  I 
saw  him  twisting  and  squirming  in  an  effort  to  get  up 
long  after  the  count  was  over.  He  showed  an  example 
of  gameness  that  I  didn't  know  he  possessed. 

I  was  the  champion! 

For  winning  this  great  battle,  as  well  as  the  white 
lightweight  championship  of  the  world,  I  received  the 
tidy  sum  of  $18,841.  In  addition  to  this  I  sold  my 
interest  in  the  fight  pictures  to  the  manager  of  the  club 
for  $5,000.  I  never  received  a  cent  of  this  picture 
money.  Total  gate  receipts  were  $48,306.15.  Later  I 
was  presented  with  one  set  of  films  of  this  fight. 

The  final  round  (18)  of  this  battle  as  published  by 
the  Associated  Press  follows  in  detail : 

"Round  18 — When  the  gong  tapped  Nelson  sprang 
out  of  his  corner  like  a  tiger  and  beat  Britt  to  the  cen- 
ter of  the  ring  by  seconds.  He  received  Jimmy  with 
a  straight  left  which  landed  on  Britt's  nose.  The  latter 
was  staggered  by  the  blow  and  immediately  resumed  his 
tactics  of  breaking  ground  in  a  wild  endeavor  to  get 
away  from  the  now  infuriated  Dane's  terrible  rushes. 
Britt  began  to  swing  wildly  with  both  hands,  casting 
all  science  to  the  winds.  With  the  Battler  close  upon 
him  now,  the  Pride  of  the  Coast,  closed  into  a  clinch. 
He  hung  on  in  sheer  desperation,  working  both  arms 
furiously.  Nelson,  the  King  of  infighters,  battered  the 
'Frisco  lad  with  deadening  body  blows,  and  when  Ref- 
eree Eddie  Graney  parted  them,  Britt  was  hanging  on 
the  Dane's  shoulders  all  in.  He  would  have  fallen  to 


176  BATTLING   NELSON 

the  floor  then,  but  for  his  opponent's  kindness  in  holding 
him  up.  They  had  hardly  been  separated  when  Britt 
again  rushed  into  a  safety  clinch.  Again  the  terrific 
infighting  went  on  with  the  Battler  doing  most  of  the 
punishing. 

"The  10,000  fight  fans  there  assembled  were  on  their 
feet  cheering,  and  howling  frantically  for  their  "pride" 
Sir  James  to  knock  his  man  out.  Poor  Jimmy,  he  was 
thanking  his  stars  the  rules  of  the  game  here  permitted 
his  running  "into  harbor"  at  every  opportunity  in  order 
to  save  himself.  Around  the  ring  battled  the  two  won- 
derful little  athletes,  punching  and  clinching,  and  it 
was  slug,  slug,  slug!  At  times  they  stood  head  to  head 
and  biffed  and  banged  each  other  to  what  seemed  the 
very  limit  of  human  endurance.  The  pace  set  by  the 
wonderful  Dane  in  this  now  historical  round,  was,  so 
all  the  experts  who  were  gathered  about  the  ring,  agreed 
the  hardest  fought  and  most  terrible  one  round  ever 
fought  in  the  history  of  the  ring. 

"There  was  the  little  youth  from  Hegewisch,  thou- 
sands of  miles  from  home  fighting  before  thousands 
of  frantic  fight  fans,  only  a  few  of  whom  were  friendly 
disposed  towards  him.  Previously  he  had  defeated 
Canole,  Hanlon,  Herrera  and  Young  Corbett,  four  of 
the  most  popular  and  toughest  fighters  on  the  coast.  Be- 
sides he  had  on  December  20,  1904,  given  this  same 
champion,  Britt,  a  most  beautiful  twenty  round  beat- 
ing, but  was  robbed  of  the  decision  by  Billy  Roach. 

"No  wonder  the  'native  sons'  were  frantic  during  this 
great  round  of  fighting.  The  Battler  did  not  want  any 
hairline  decisions  here.  He  went  in  to  knock  Britt  out, 
or  get  his  own  "cotton  top"  badly  singed. 

"The  round  was  scarcely  half  over  when  Britt  cut 
lose  a  wild  swing  which  struck  the  Battler  flush  on  the 
wind.  It  was  a  mean  blow  and  would  have  probably 
finished  any  ordinary  fighter.  Not  so  with  the  Battler. 
The  blow  served  to  incite  him  to  a  higher  pitch  and  he 


BATTLING  NELSON  177 

let  fly  a  right  hook  which  caught  the  incoming  Britt 
hard  on  the  solar  plexus. 

"There  was  a  sudden  cessation  of  wild  yelling  from 
the  mob.  Britt  was  seen  to  straighten  up  momentarily, 
throw  up  both  arms— AND  HE  TOPPLED  OVER 
PRONE  UPON  HIS  BACK.  KNOCKED  OUT 
COLD  AND  UNCONSCIOUS,  in  which  condition  he 
remained  for  several  minutes. 

"Frantically  did  his  loving  seconds  endeavor  to  arouse 
Jimmy  from  his  slumbers — but  'twas  all  unavailing — the 
Pride  of  the  Coast  had  fallen  before  his  MASTER, 
and  with  the  fall  went  the  WHITE  LIGHTWEIGHT 
CHAMPIONSHIP  OF  THE  WORLD. 

"The  finish  of  this  memorable  Admission  Day  fight  at 
Colma  was  truly  a  spectacular  one,  indeed.  The  thou- 
sands of  fight  fans  who  were  there  will  not,  for  some 
time,  forget  the  woebegone  expression  which  over- 
spreads Britt's  features  as  he  lay  struggling  on  the 
canvas  in  a  semi-unconscious  condition  trying  his  utmost 
to  recover  and  drag  himself  to  his  feet.  Though  ham- 
mered into  complete  helplessness,  Britt,  in  his  vain  at- 
tempts to  arise,  exhibited  a  spirit  of  gameness  which 
won  the  admiration  of  everyone  there  assembled." 


How  Different  People  View  Fighters. 
Brain  Beaten  by  Brute  Force. 

From  San  Francisco  Kxamlner,   September   10.    l<.)0r>. 

DANE'S     PERPETUAL     MOTION     MORE    EFFECTIVE    THAN 
BRITT'S  MENTAL  SUPERIORITY,  SAYS  JACK  LONDON. 

BY   JACK   LONDON. 

In  the  first  round  Britt  hit  Nel- 
son half  a  dozen  blows.  At  each 
blow  Nelson  was  coming  in.  The 
blows  did  not  stop  him.  He  kept 
coming  on.  Then  Nelson  hit 
Britt,  and  Britt  was  staggered  by 
the  blow.  The  whole  story  of  the 
fight  was  told  right  there.  Blows 
did  not  stop  Nelson  from  coming 
on.  Blows  did  stop  Britt;  also 
they  staggered  him. 

Nelson  is  a  fighting  animal. 
Britt  is  an  intelligent  animal  with 
fighting  proclivities.  This  is  an- 
other way  of  telling  the  story. 

It  was  the  abysmal  brute 
against  a  more  highly  organized, 
intelligent  creature.  Now,  do  not 
misunderstand  me.  I  do  not  wish  to  call  Nelson  a  brute ; 
but  what  I  wish  to  say  is  that  Nelson  possesses  to  an 
unusual  degree  the  brute  that  you  and  I  and  all  of  us 
possess  in  varying  degree. 

Let  me  explain.  By  abysmal  brute  I  mean  the  basic 
life  that  resides  deeper  than  the  brain  and  the  intellect 
in  living  things.  It  is  itself  the  very  staff  of  life — move- 
ment; and  it  is  saturated  with  a  blind  and  illimitable 
desire  to  exist.  This  desire  it  expresses  by  movement. 
No  matter  what  comes  it  will  move.  It  came  into 

178 


JACK   LONDON. 


BATTLING   NELSON  179 

the  world  first.  It  is  lower  down  on  the  ladder  of 
evolution  than  is  intelligence.  It  comes  first,  before 
the  intellect.  The  intellect  rests  before  it;  and  when 
the  intellect  goes  it  still  remains — the  abysmal  brute. 

Let  me  explain  a  step  farther,  if  you  are  to  under- 
stand this  fight  between  Britt  and  Nelson  as  I  saw  it. 

Here  are  you  and  I,  average  creatures,  fairly  nor- 
mal and  fairly  rational.  Our  minds  are  clear.  We 
reason.  We  conduct  ourselves  with  the  intelligent  poise 
of  mind.  But  a  sharp  word  is  spoken,  a  sneer  is  made, 
an  insult  is  given.  At  once  our  poise  of  mind  is  gone. 
We  are  angry.  The  mind  no  longer  dominates  us.  The 
abysmal  brute  rushes  up  in  us,  muddles  out  clear  brain, 
takes  charge  of  us. 

This  is  a  moment  of  anger.  We  are  temporarily 
insane.  Reason  is  gone.  The  brute  has  charge  of  us. 
The  difference  between  us  and  the  man  in  the  insane 
asylum  is  that  the  brute  always  has  charge  of  him. 

It  is  this  abysmal  brute  that  we  see  in  a  man  in  a 
Berserker  rage  or  in  a  jealous  spell  of  anger.  We  see 
it  in  a  horse,  tied  by  too  short  a  rope,  frantic,  dragging 
backward  and  hanging  itself.  We  see  it  in  the  bull, 
bellowing  and  blindly  charging  a  red  shirtwaist;  in  the 
strange  cat,  restrained  in  our  hands,  curving  its  hind- 
quarters in  and  with  its  hind  legs  scratching  long,  rip- 
ping slashes. 

And  now  to  return,  Nelson  is  the  lower  type.  Britt 
is  the  higher  type.  Nelson  is  more  callous  to  pain  and 
shock,  has  less  sensibility.  At  the  same  time  the  abysmal 
brute  in  him  gives  him  a  tremendous  capacity  to  move 
and  to  keep  on  moving.  Britt  is  more  delicately  or- 
ganized. He  is  more  easily  put  out  of  gear.  At  the 
same  time  he  possesses  less  capacity  to  move  and  to 
keep  on  ceaselessly  moving.  Had  he  Nelson's  capacity 
to  move,  plus  his  own  intelligence,  he  would  have 
whipped  Nelson.  But  Britt  did  not  have  this  power  of 
movement;  was  too  far  removed  from  the  brute,  and 


180  BATTLING   NELSON 

was  himself  whipped.  The  best  man  won — according 
to  the  rules  of  the  game. 

All  the  preliminary  fuss  of  the  battle  showed  that  bull- 
headed  stubbornness  and  balkiness  were  on  the  Nel- 
son side,  and  that  intelligence  was  on  the  Britt  side. 
"No  Jeffries!"  was  the  stubborn  Nelson  (Nolan)  cry. 

The  Nelson  side  had  balked  like  any  fool  horse,  and 
was  hurting  itself  all  the  time.  The  Britt  side,  being 
intelligent,  gave  in.  It  gave  in  intelligently,  at  the 
eleventh  hour,  spectacularly,  throwing  all  the  odium 
upon  the  Nelson  side,  winning  all  the  sympathy  for  itself. 
Nelson  was  hooted;  Britt  was  cheered.  Intelligence 
won  iiands  down,  but  it  was  only  in  the  preliminary. 

Britt  stripped  and  showed  himself  deep  chested  and 
shouldered.  His  lines  were  soft  and  rounded.  He  was 
beautiful  as  a  man  goes,  and  his  condition  was  perfect; 
while  his  eyes  were  clear  and  bright. 

When  Nelson  stripped  he  looked  like  a  proletarian 
that  had  known  lean  and  hungry  years  of  childhood. 
His  face  was  weazened,  his  eyes  were  small,  his  hair 
was  colorless,  his  neck  was  thin,  his  naked  body  was 
not  beautiful  as  Britt's  was  beautiful. 

As  they  faced  each  other,  one  or  the  other  seemed 
to  belie  his  weight,  for  Britt  looked  much  the  larger. 
The  contrast  was  striking.  If  Nelson  looked  the  lean 
and  hungry  proletarian,  Britt  looked  the  well-fed  and 
prosperous  bourgeoise.  It  was  like  a  scrub  and  underfed 
creature  facing  a  thoroughbred.  Nelson's  eyes  and 
face  were  vicious.  Britt's  face  was  inexpressive.  His 
mind  was  in  control.  Whatever  feelings  stirred  within 
him,  they  were  well  hidden. 

The  first  round  has  been  told.  Nelson  forced  the 
fighting.  He  moved.  He  moved  always.  And  he 
always  moved  forward.  When  Britt  backed  away,  Nel- 
son moved  forward.  When  Britt  hit  him,  he  moved 
forward  more  swiftly.  That  was  all. 

It  was  the  whole  fight.  From  start  to  finish,  for  eigh- 
teen savage  rounds,  Nelson  kept  boring  in.  Britt  could 


BATTLING   NELSON  181 

not  keep  him  back.  No  matter  how  often  and  how  hard 
Britt  punched  him,  he  bored  in  just  the  same.  Always 
Britt  backed  away  from  him,  smashing  him  cruel  blows 
from  a  distance;  and  always  he  kept  advancing  after 
Britt. 

And  when  Nelson  got  inside  Britt's  arms  he  went  to 
work.  Punch,  punch,  punch,  right  and  left  on  stomach 
and  kidney,  and  uppercuts  to  the  face.  It  was  here 
that  the  force  of  Nelson's  blows  was  demonstrated. 
When  he  shot  in  an  uppercut  Britt  was  appreciably 
lifted  by  it. 

In  the  clinches  Nelson  did  practically  all  the  punching, 
while  Britt  strove  to  protect  himself.  Nelson  had  little 
success  in  reaching  Britt  from  a  distance.  It  was  at 
close  quarters  that  he  got  in  his  work.  He  punched 
through  the  beginning  of  a  clinch.  He  punched  through 
the  clinch.  He  punched  in 'the  breakaway.  And  the 
next  moment  he  was  moving  forward  again  upon  Britt 
in  order  to  get  at  close  quarters  and  deliver  himself  of 
some  more  punches. 

On  the  other  hand,  Britt  was  not  idle.  He  landed 
six  blows  to  the  Dane's  one.  Had  Britt  received  the 
blows  he  gave  Nelson,  Britt  would  have  been  out  long 
before  the  eighteenth  round.  But  Nelson  scarcely  seemed 
bothered  by  the  punishment.  One  thing  was  strikingly 
noticeable.  His  blows,  when  they  did  land,  jarred  and 
often  staggered  Britt,  while  Britt's  blows  did  not  seem 
to  jar  nor  stagger  Nelson.  He  met  these  blows  as  he 
came  on,  and  he  kept  on  coming  just  the  same. 

In  the  sixth  round  came  the  test  of  the  two  men. 
Nelson  punched  Britt  groggy.  This  is  another  way  of 
saying  that  Britt  was  dazed  and  weak. 

His  clear  reason  was  reeling  because  his  body  was 
going  back  on  him.  It  could  not  move,  and  move,  and 
continue  to  move.  He  was  too  highly  developed,  too 
finely  organized.  There  was  not  enough  of  the  brute 
in  him  to  save  him.  But  the  gong  saved  him.  Another 
minute  and  he  would  have  been  out. 


1*2  BATTLING   NELSON 

Britt  recuperated  wonderfully,  but  in  the  next  round 
could  do  nothing  with  the  Dane.  A  blow,  two  blows, 
a  dozen — the  Dane  received  them  all,  but  they  did  not 
deter  him  from  keeping  right  on  and  boring  in.  From 
the  standpoint  of  blows  landed,  it  was  Britt's  round.  But 
from  the  standpoint  of  winning  the  fight  by  a  knockout, 
it  was  no  more  Britt's  round  than  was  any  other  round 
of  the  fight.  Victory  was  hopeless  for  him  from  the 
first  round. 

And  so  the  battle  went  until  the  fourteenth.  In  this 
round  Britt  went  groggy  and  for  a  while  was  all  but 
out.  Then  it  was  that  he  made  a  terrific  rally.  He 
did  not  fight  with  his  head.  It  was  his  own  share  of  the 
abysmal  brute  that  rose  up  and  fought.  He  fought  like 
a  madman.  Blows  were  exchanged  frankly  without  at- 
tempts to  protect.  Boxing  ceased.  It  was  punch,  punch, 
slug,  slug — a  tolsen  in  itself  that  Britt  was  not  fighting 
with  his  mind,  for  he  was  fighting  himself  out,  exhaust- 
ing all  his  reserves  of  strength. 

In  the  fifteenth  round  Britt's  mind  resumed  its  sway. 
A  minute  of  rest  had  brought  it  back.  He  was  intent 
on  resting  his  tired  body.  But  the  Dane  never  ceased 
from  pursuing,  from  boring  in  and  fighting  at  close  quar- 
ters. The  life  that  was  in  him  moved,  moved,  ceaselessly 
moved. 

DANE   HAS   STATIONARY   HEAD. 

When  Nelson  was  hit  on  the  nose  or  chin  or  jaw  his 
head  came  forward  in  advance  of  his  advancing  body. 
No  blow  of  Britt's  seemed  capable  of  sending  that  head 
back.  But  Nelson's  blows  when  they  landed  sent  Britt's 
head  back  with  a  snap. 

The  fifteenth,  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  rounds  might 
be  all  called  Britt's  rounds.  By  appearance  they  seemed 
so.  In  reality  they  were  the  Dane's  for  Nelson  never 
ceased  from  boring  in  and  forcing  the  fighting.  He  was 
wearing  Britt  out,  punching  him  out;  while  Britt,  even 
if  he  did  give  many  more  blows  than  he  received,  was 


BATTLING   NELSON  183 

not  wearing  the  Dane  out,  nor  was  he  punching  the  Dane 
out. 

Nelson  did  not  knock  Britt  out  with  a  blow,  nor  with 
a  series  of  blows,  in  the  eighteenth  round.  Britt  was 
knocked  out  by  the  whole  fight  he  had  fought  from  the 
beginning  of  the  first  round.  His  multitude  of  punches 
on  the  Dane  had  not  counted.  The  far  smaller  number 
of  blows  landed  by  the  Dane  had  counted.  It  was  the 
sum  of  the  blows  struck  by  the  Dane,  plus  the  exertions 
of  Britt,  that  put  Britt  out.  He  had  consumed  all  his 
strength,  all  his  vitality. 

INTELLECT  LOST  THE  DAY. 

Fighting  with  his  intellect,  and  with  his  body  as  well, 
Britt  was  knocked  out  because  his  body  was  not  strong 
enough  to  keep  his  mind  poised  in  control  and  directing 
his  body.  When  the  body  was  weakened  the  mind  was 
overthrown,  and  his  cleverness  and  his  intelligence 
counted  for  nothing. 

Not  so  much  with  the  Dane.  The  abysmal  brute  in 
him  fought  on.  It  was  the  will  of  life  itself,  the  fleshly 
life  as  a  thing  apart  from  the  mind  and  the  spirit  that 
moved  on  in  him  and  that  outmoved  the  same  kind  of 
life  that  was  in  Britt.  Britt  is  the  finer  human.  Nelson 
is  the  finer  fighting  animal. 

Nevertheless  all  hail  to  both  of  them !  They  play  the 
clean  game  of  life.  And  I,  for  one,  would  rather  be 
either  of  them  this  day  at  Colma  than  a  man  who  took 
no  exercise  with  his  body  to-day  but  instead  waxed 
physically  gross  in  the  course  of  gathering  to  himself 
a  few  dollars  in  the  commercial  game. 

JACK  LONDON. 


184  BATTLING   NELSON 

HOW    A    WOMAN    SEES    A    FIGHT    AND    FIGHTERS. 


MISS   ETTA   FOSTER. 

DEDICATED   TO   BATTLING    NELSON,   LIGHTWEIGHT    CHAMPION   OF 

THE  WORLD.  BY  Miss  ETTA  FOSTER.  COLMA,  CAL.,  SEPT.  9, 

1905,  IN  MEMORY  OF  THE  VICTORY  OVER  JIMMY  BRITT. 

They  met  in  the  roped  arena 

On  that  now  famous  day, 
The  one  wore  the  wreath  of  Laurel 

The  other  must  fight  his  way. 

As  they  stood  in  the  glare  of  the  sunlight 

Like  the  famous  gladiators  of  old, 
The  one  so  slight  and  boyish, 

The  other  so  stalwart  and  bold. 

The  eager  crowd  cheer  for  their  hero 

The  pride  of  the  Golden  gate, 
Not  a  word  of  applause  for  the  Danish  lad 

But  soon  a  surprise  the  public  awaits. 

But  Battling,  the  lad  who  was  scoffed  at 
Whom  no  one  would  cheer  or  applaud 

Stands  today  the  world's  lightweight  champion, 
Whose  praises  all  gladly  will  laud. 

And  he,  the  Laurel-crowned  victor 

Is  a  man  who  bears  well  the  fame, 
Who  won  by  fair  deal  a  title 

That  no  one  yet  dares  claim. 


Tragedy  is  Mirrored  in  Face  of 
Britt's  Father. 

From    .San    Francisco    Examiner.    September     10.     1905. 

CRITIC  SAYS  THIS  IS  MORE  THAN   MELODRAMA,  AND  TELLS 

HOW   ACCURATE  DRAMATIZATION    WOULD   BE 

LESSON    FOR    "THE    GAME/' 

BY  ASHTON   STEVENS. 

Melodrama  would  be  a  hollow  word — poor  old  cut- 
and-dried  melodrama!  For  this  duel  between  Jimmie 

Britt  and  Battling  Nelson  had 
a  nerve-wrecking  shudder  for 
every  moment  of  the  fifty-two 
minutes  of  actual  fighting.  It 
was  a  sight  such  as  I  hope 
never  to  see  again ;  and  yet  it 
was  the  greatest  matinee  I 
have  ever  witnessed.  The  most 
colossal  audience  —  and  the 
most  expensive  too,  that  I 
have  ever  known — played  the 
horrible  mob. 

When  the  right  fist  of  Nel- 
son emerged  from  a  tangle  of 
blows  in  the  eighteenth  round 
and  came  invincibly  against 

ASHTON  STEVENS.  the  jaw  of  Britt,  and  the  cham- 

pion of  his  lightweight  kind  fell  numb  against  the  ropes 
and  sank  to  the  canvas  floor,  his  lips  geysers  of  blood, 
his  tongue  a  protruding,  sickening  blade  of  red,  the  mob 
went  mad. 

Referee  Graney  had  declared  "all  bets  off,"  and  it 
was  more  merely  a  matter  of  passion. 

So  the  crowd  opened  its  throat  in  unmercenary  rap- 
ture. The  King  was  dead — curse  him! — and  long  live 
the  Battling  One! 

185 


186  BATTLING   NELSON 

A  thousand  cushions  from  the  hard  seats  of  the  Colma 
arena  were  thrown  into  the  afternoon  air,  and  picked  up 
and  thrown,  and  thrown  again. 

Nelson  the  Great! 

Britt  the  Beaten! 

For  ten  minutes  after  the  determining  blow,  hell  was 
lidless. 

Jubilant  arms  tossed  Nelson  again  and  again  in  the 
air  as  college  kids  are  tossed  in  blankets.  He  was  the 
gloat  of  fifteen  thousand  throats.  The  prize  ring  filled 
for  him,  and  the  policemen  detailed  to  clear  it  fought 
to  retain  their  clubs. 

In  the  corner  of  the  vanquished  mourned  the  seconds, 
and  if  the  truth  must  be  told — for  I  sat  at  the  ringside 
in  Britt's  corner  where  Britt  fell — mourned  also  the  ref- 
eree, who  that  afternoon  at  the  last  moment  had  accepted 
the  post  in  the  face  of  what  had  appeared  to  be  an  im- 
placable grudge  twixt  himself  and  the  Britts. 

FATHER  AND  SON. 

But  more  touching  still  in  that  near  corner  was  Old 
Man  Britt,  pillowing  the  gore-flecked  head  of  his  hereto- 
fore undefeated  first  born.  He  bent  his  body  over  his 
broken  son  and  made  of  his  back  a  shield  against  the 
flying  cushions. 

As  well  as  fake  the  prize  ring  has  its  tragedy,  and 
one  sees  it  with  ghastly  vividness  at  the  ringside. 

Quickly  permit  me  to  admit  that  my  small  change 
and  my  large  sympathies  had  been  with  Jimmie.  I  had 
interviewed  him  for  the  Sunday  Examiner  as  fistrion  and 
plumber  boy.  His  mind  had  won  me.  His  neck  had 
appeared  to  be  a  bit  too  long  and  thin  for  "the  game," 
yet  he  had  more  brains  than  all  of  the  ringsters  I  had 
ever  chanced  to  fall  in  with.  Also  he  had  quickness, 
muscle  and  a  left  arm  like  a  foil.  His  mentality  and 
fleetness  I  would  have  pitted  against  the  brawn  of  any 
man  of  equal  weight.  And  I  had  seen  him  defeat  Xel- 
son  in  twenty  rounds — where  yesterday  in  a  contest  of 


BATTLING   NELSON  18? 

the  practically  unlimited  number  of  forty-five,  he  went 
clown  in  the  eighteenth. 

So  I  motored  out  to  Colma  with  the  rest  of  the  ex- 
perts and  imposters  (like  myself),  wondering  just  what 
sort  of  a  foolish  dramatic  critic's  point  of  view  I  should 
be  able  to  bring  to  bear  on  Jimmie  Britt's  victory. 

On  everything  save  paper  I  had  my  story  written 
before  the  gong  rang.  Presently,  when  I  turned  and 
looked  two  rows  behind  into  the  troubled  features  of 
Old  Man  Britt,  I  felt  like  a  living  obituary. 

During  the  fiercest  rounds,  Mr.  Britt  was  the  only  man 
that  stood  in  the  great  open-air  auditorium.  Others 
that  attempted  to  keep  their  feet  were  hissed  and  cussed 
down. 

But  the  Old  Man  stood,  and  even  those  directly  be- 
hind made  no  murmur.  He  stood  with  his  black  hat  in 
his  hand,  close  against  his  black  coat,  like  a  mourner  at 
a  funeral.  When  big  Dean  Naughton  turned  and  said, 
"Nothing  but  a  miracle  can  save  Britt/'  the  foreboding 
was  echoed  in  the  face  of  the  father.  When  he  said, 
"It's  all  over  now  for  Jimmy;  we  have  only  to  wait  for 
the  rounds,"  the  Old  Man's  mouth  was  working  with 
every  blow  and  his  breathing  was  hopelessness  against 
hopelessness. 

Before  the  finale  came,  the  senior  Britt  had  surren- 
dered. To  have  taken  his  game  youngster  out  of  that 
padded  square  he  looked  as  though  he  would  have  given 
one  plumbing  shop  and  some  flats. 

But  Jimmie  knew  that  he  was  beaten  only  after  he 
had  been  lifted  to  his  corner.  It's  a  pity  that  such  grit 
has  to  be  sold  in  the  market  place  for  purses  and  per 
cent.  It's  a  crime  against  what  we  are  pleased  to  call 
civilization.  If  the  bloody  wage  of  war  must  come,  and 
come  in  response  to  national  pride  and  protection,  the 
Jimmie  Britt  should  be  foremost  with  the  fighters.  They 
deserve  a  dearer  heroism  than  this  cheap  one  of  the  glove. 

Almost  throughout  the  battle  was  a  fury,  Britt  seemed 
bent  on  throwing  fancy  boxing  to  the  winds  and  piercing 


188  BATTLING  NELSON 

his  opponent  by  main  strength.  Vainly  the  picturesque 
"Spider"  Kelly  and  the  other  Britt  seconds  cautioned 
him  to  caution — just  as  vainly  as  they  urged  him  to  wild- 
ness  in  the  fatal  eighteenth.  He  fought  his  own  fight, 
and  the  cheers  that  greeted  his  defeat  were  for  a  stronger 
but  not  for  a  braver  man. 

I  am  not  depreciating  the  courage  of  Battling  Nelson. 
No  one  can  but  admire  the  sand  and  strength  and  skill 
of  him.  There  were  times  when  his  expressionless  face 
was  a  crimson  jelly  under  the  thud  of  Britt's  sodden 
gloves;  there  were  times  when  his  Greek  body  seemed 
to  be  stung  through  and  through  by  the  merciless  flog- 
ging from  Britt's  left.  But  invariably  Nelson  returned 
for  more,  and  gradually,  cumulatively  he  gave  rather 
than  took  that  more.  He  had  rounds  to  spare,  yet,  like 
Britt,  he  wanted  no  boxing.  The  man  that  called  this 
a  "boxing  match"  was  a  merry  jester.  I  will  leave  it 
to  the  experience  of  Otto  Floto,  Naughton  and  Hamilton 
if  a  harder,  bloodier  battle  has  ever  been  fought  in  the 
vision  of  paying  spectators. 

Some  of  these  spectators  should  have  been  excluded. 
They  were  women.  A  few  of  them  looked  like  decent 
women,  but  the  most  gave  token  of  being  jaded  jades 
in  search  of  some  new  torment  for  their  sagging  nerves. 
Hoots  of  mock  applause  properly  met  the  entrance  of 
each. 

Man  at  a  prize  fight  is  not  a  polite  animal.  In  fact, 
he  has  no  politeness  at  all  and  is  much  more  animal  than 
man. 

I  saw  yesterday  professional  men,  doctors  and  lawyers 
high  in  practice  and  clubs,  writhing  rapturously  with 
every  blow.  Each  was  "fighting  the  fight"  by  himself. 

And  I  saw  the  eyes  of  Jack  London,  who  in  his  novel, 
"The  Game,"  has  translated  to  the  stage  a  prize  fight 
better  than  Bernard  Shaw  in  either  novel  or  play — I  saw 
the  eyes  of  this  great  primitive  fictionist  turn  from  sym- 
pathy with  Britt  to  contempt  for  the  mob  that  thundered 
at  Britt's  fall. 


BATTLING   NELSON  189 

Even  London  has  not  written  the  whole  "Game;"  and 
no  melodramatist  has  approached  it.  Oh,  these  miserable 
sublimations  of  fights  that  you  see  in  the  casual  melo- 
drama !  They  have  nothing  of  the  spirit ;  nothing  of 
the  ring  and  after  all  the  ring  and  those  immediately 
about  it  are  about  all  you  could  hope  to  show  within 
the  confines  of  an  ordinary  stage. 

If  we  must  have  the  fighter  in  drama  let  him  be  drama- 
tized accurately.  Let  him  have  a  "Spider"  Kelley  in  his 
corner  screaming: 

"That's  the  candy,  Jimmy!  Once  more  where  he 
bleeds !  Draw  more  of  the  claret ;  I  like  to  see  it  run ! 
Go  in,  you  tiger,  you,  and  finish  him  before  he  faints 
on  your  shoulder !" 

I  admit,  ladies,  that  this  sounds  brutal,  but  it  is  only 
a  scented  version  of  what  actually  is  shouted  at  the  ring- 
side. 

Then  again,  if  we  must  have  the  ring  on  the  stage, 
give  us  the  real  surroundings ;  the  telegraph  instruments 
clicking  against  shout;  the  hodded  telephone  operators; 
the  worried  correspondents  from  all  ends  of  the  earth. 
And  if  we  must  have  prize  fights  on  the  stage,  give  us 
an  actor  to  play  the  part  of  a  Naughton,  so  that  in  one 
of  those  deadly  climaxes  where  the  tension  of  the  crowd 
is  too  great  for  clamor,  when  what  London  calls  the 
"blood-cry"  is  choked  in  the  throats — then  I  say  give  us 
a  Naughton  on  the  stage,  talking  like  a  phonograph 
to  his  telegrapher,  the  news  of  to  be  carried  from  ocean 
to  ocean,  from  newspaper  to  newspaper. 

"A — couple  —  of — lefts  —  to — the  —  body — brought 
— Britt's  head  —  forward.  As  —  Britt's  —  head — came 
—in  —  Nelson  —  showered — rights — and — lefts  —  on — 
the — jaw.  Nelson  —  tore  —  loose — with — a — hard — left 
—on  —  the — body.  Britt — began — to — crumble  Then — 
—Nelson  —  unloaded  —  a — right  —  on — -the  —  head — 
and  —  a  --  left — on — the  stomach.  It — was — hard — to 
say  —  which  —  blow — ended — the — fight — but — Britt — 
sank  —  to — the — floor — and — rolled — over — his — tongue 


190  BATTLING   NELSON 

— protruding-.  It — was — blood  —  red — and — he — was — 
gasping  —  for  —  breath.  He  —  grasped — the — ropes — 
and — tried — to — arise — but — 

If  women  and  children  and  sedentary  gents  must  see 
prize  fights  on  the  stage,  give  them  to  them  as  they  are. 
This  will  show  the  ring  for  its  true  worth.  Give  us 
everything,  I  say — save  one.  Not  Old  Man  Britt  erect 
in  the  mob  and  holding  his  hat  like  a  mourner  at  his 
son's  funeral.  To  show  "the  game"  as  it  is  you  don't 
have  to  go  quite  that  far.  I  saw  a  fighter  kill  a  man  in 
the  ring,  the  picture  was  not  half  so  sad  as  that  of  Old 
Man  Britt. 


CHAPTER  XXI 


Nelson  Exposes  a  Secret  About  His  Mana- 

ager — Fights  Terry  McGovern 

at  Philadelphia. 

My  life,  battles  and  career  have  certainly  been  strewn 
with  many  pitfalls  and  thorny  paths,  as  these  pages  will 
testify. 

After  almost  a  year's  haggling  to  secure  the  second 
Britt  match  which  was  fought  at  Colma,  Cal.,  Sept.  9, 
1905,  being  blocked  by  the  Britts  on  various  occasions, 
my  manager,  Bill  Nolan,  came  very  near  throwing  a 
bombshell  into  the  match.  While  the  Britts  and  jhe 
club  promoters  were  righting  over  the  selection  of  a  ref- 
eree, none  other  than  Billy  Nolan  and  I  sat  in  our  cot- 
tage, two  blocks  from  the  ringside,  wrangling  and  argu- 
ing regarding  the  percentage  Nolan  was  to  receive  for 
acting  in  the  capacity  of  my  manager. 

I  had  nothing  but  a  verbal  agreement,  no  written  con- 
tract. It  was  understood  that  he  was  to  receive  the  same 
percentage  as  my  former  manager.  This  was  25  per 
cent,  of  net  proceeds.  I  figured,  however,  that  he  would 
put  one  over  in  the  Britt  match,  knowing  that  it  was  a 
big  thing.  He  demanded  50  per  cent,  from  me  for  his 
end.  I  refused  point  blank  to  consider  any  such  propo- 
sition, while  Nolan  insisted  on  his  50  per  cent,  and 
seemed  determined  not  to  yield  an  inch. 

I  decided  to  fight  the  battle  regardless  of  who  was  my 
manager  or  who  was  referee,  and  told  Nolan  so.  He 
was  insistent,  and  offered  to  post  a  $10,000  forfeit  and 
wanted  me  to  post  a  like  amount,  guaranteeing  that  I 
wouldn't  fight  Britt,  and  he  would  gracefully  step  down 
and  out  as  manager. 

After  a  lot  of  jawing   I   compromised   with   Nolan, 

191 


19J 


BATTLING    NELSON 


agreeing  to  give  him  35  per  cent,  of  all  my  net  win- 
nings, so  as  to  keep  peace  in  the  family. 

My  victory  over  Britt,  which  gave  me  the  champion- 
ship, quickly  brought  me  into  fame  and  fortune.     I  was 


TERRY  MoGOVERN,  LIGHT-FEATHER  AND  BANTAMWEIGHT  CHAMPION  OF 
THE   WORLD. 


snapped  up  by  several  theatrical  agents  and  in  a  sixteen 
weeks'  tour  of  the  country  I  received  $21,400,  or 
$J  -337-5°  a  week. 

It  was  at  the  end  of  this  tour  that  I  got  a  chance 
to  fight  Terry  McGovern,  the  terror  I  had  heard  of  all 
mv  life.  I  had  often  wanted  to  meet  Terry,  as  I  had 


BATTLING   NELSON  193 

understood  that  he  was  the  greatest  of  them  all  in  his 
dav. 

THE  CHAMPION  PRAISES  ROKO  IN  TRAINING. 

As  soon  as  the  match  had  been  arranged  I  went  to 
Essington,  Pa.,  to  train  for  two  weeks.  Kid  Abel,  Frank 
McKinley,  Hughie  McMahon  and  Eddie  Kelly  were  my 
sparring  partners.  This  is  where  I  first  introduced  Roko 
into  my  training  and  found  it  very  beneficial,  and  have 
used  it  ever  since,  and  attribute  my  success,  in  a  measure, 
to  its  use. 

Pent  E.  Spink,  owner  and  inventor  of  the  game,  of 
Cleveland,  spent  a  week  at  the  quarters  instructing  me 
and  my  assistants  in  all  of  its  fine  points. 

As  a  result  of  two  weeks'  training,  during  which  I 
played  Roko  every  day,  I  stepped  into  the  ring  to  meet 
Terry  as  fit  as  a  fiddle  and  as  fast  as  lightning.  \\V 
met  at  133  pounds  ringside  weight.  We  drew  the  ban- 
ner house  at  the  National  Athletic  Club  of  $23,543.00, 
'of  which  I  received  a  guarantee  of  $5,000  win,  lose  or 
draw,  with  a  privilege  of  50  per  cent,  of  the  gross  gate 
receipts,  which  amounted  to  $11,771.50.  This  is  a  world's 
record  for  a  six-round  fight,  and  over  three  times  as 
large  a  house  as  has  ever  been  drawn,  before  or  since, 
at  this  club,  and  I  am  using  Harry  Edward's  word  when 
making  this  statement. 

As  will  well  be  remembered  by  the  many  patrons  who 
attended  this  club  on  the  memorable  night  of  March  14, 
1906,  I  kept  Terry  McGovern  waiting  in  the  cold  on  the 
raised  platform  for  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour. 
Knowing  that  McGovern  was  very,  very  nervous  and 
easily  "riled,"  I  took  my  time  in  putting  the  tape  on  my 
hands  purposely  to  get  his  goat.  I  certainly  succeeded. 
Terry,  as  everybody  knows,  is  a  great  little  fighter,  and, 
being  of  a  nervous  disposition,  is  always  anxious  to  hear 
the  bell  so  he  can  start  fighting  and  finish  the  job  in  a 
hurry.  I  also  brought  in  an  extra  shoe  lace,  knowing  I 
was  going  to  break  the  one  I  had  in  my  shoe  accidentally 
— on  purpose. 


194  BATTLING    NELSON 

BAT   CHIDES    TERRY. 

After  keeping  McGovern  waiting  about  fifteen  minutes 
he  commenced  to  become  cold  and  fidgety.  He  put  on 
his  overcoat  and  walked  around  the  ring,  and  finally 
came  over  to  my  corner  and  made  inquiry  as  to  why  I 
was  so  slow  in  getting  ready. 

I  only  looked  up  at  him  and  said,  "Don't  worry,  Terry, 
you'll  get  yours  soon  enough."  That  got  him  red-hot 
and  he  complained  to  his  managers,  Sam  Harris  and 
Joe  Humphreys.  They  both  came  over  and  tried  to  get 


me  to  hurry,  but  I  only  laughed  at  them,  so  thev  went 
back  to  Terry's  corner  to  try  to  humor  their  champion 
and  keep  him  from  worrying  about  the  fight. 

After  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  the  fight  fans 
became  anxious  and  were  yelling  "Fight !  fight !"  Think- 
ing that  I  had  gone  far  enough  and  that  I  had  McGov- 
ern worked  up  to  a  high  pitch,  I  put  on  the  finishing 
touches  and  was  ready  for  the  bell. 

Jack  McGuigan,  the  referee,  called  us  to  the  center, 


BATTLING   NELSON  195 

giving  us  our  final  instructions,  and  poor  Terry  shook 
with  fright  and  nervousness  as  he  stepped  back  to  his 
corner  to  await  the  bell.  As  everybody  will  remember, 
instead  of  retiring  to  my  corner,  I  stood  directly  in  the 
center  of  the  ring,  and  when  the  gong  rang,  tore  after 
McGovern.  \Ve  had  hardly  fought  thirty  seconds  when 
1  could  tell  that  1  had  McGovern's  goat.  He  was  nerv- 
ous and  held  on.  He  was  afraid  to  fight  his  usual 
fight  of  rushing  from  start  to  finish.  We  went  six 
good  hard,  fast  rounds  with  considerable  clinching — on 
McGovern's  part.  We  finished  the  six  rounds  in  the 
center  of  the  ring  battling  like  demons,  neither  being 
apparently  much  the  worse  for  wear. 

Immediately  after  the  great  fight  with  Terry  Mc- 
Govern at  Philadelphia,  I  was  matched  to  fight  Aurelia 
Herrera  at  Los  Angeles  before  Tom  McCarey's  club. 
McCarey  thought  so  well  of  the  match  that  he  agreed 
to  give  a  $20,000  purse  for  it.  I  was  to  receive  $4,000 
bonus  and  Herrera  and  I  were  to  cut  the  remaining 
$16,000,  60  and  40  per  cent  winner  and  loser,  respec- 
tively. On  the  morning  of  April  18,  just  as  I  was  go- 
ing for  my  daily  spin  on  the  road  at  Fairview,  Hot 
Springs,  a  dispatch  flashed  over  the  wires  bringing  news 
of  the  most  frightful  calamity  of  the  century.  San 
Francisco  had  been  struck  by  an  earthquake  at  5:18 
A.  M.,  and  the  entire  city  was  in  ruins.  Of  course,  I 
being  so  well  acquainted  in  San  Francisco,  I  was  anx- 
ious for  the  welfare  of  my  many  friends  and  immedi- 
ately hurried  to  Los  Angeles  and  that  night  got  aboard 
the  Los  Angeles  Examiner  special  and  arrived  on  the 
scene  the  following  morning.  The  sight  viewed  as  I 
stepped  off  the  ferry  on  the  'Frisco  side  was  a  picture 
of  death,  ruin,  wreck  and  destruction  I  shall  carry  fresh 
in  my  memory  to  the  grave. 

THE  BATTLER  DONATES  $I,OOO. 

On  my  arrival  at  Los  Angeles  a  relief  fund  had  been 
started,  to  which  nearly  everybody  contributed.  I  re- 


196  BATTLING    NELSON 

sponcled  with  a  check  for  $1,000.  Owing  to  the  dis- 
aster, McCarey  had  the  Nelson-Herrera  fight  post- 
poned for  a  few  weeks,  which  was  acceptable  to  both 
parties. 

The  day  following  the  boxing  carnival  we  gave  for  the 
benefit  of  the  sufferers,  in  company  with  "Megaphone" 
Cook,  I  peddled  papers  on  the  street  corners  of  Lo? 
Angeles  and  swelled  the  fund  $181  more. 

The  fight  was  booked  for  the  last  week  in  May,  and 
everything  went  lovely  up  to  6  o'clock,  the  time  for  the 
weighing  in,  when  the  Herrera  party  tampered  with 
the  scales,  making  it  impossible  to  weigh  in  on  them. 
McCarey  and  I  suggested  that  we  go  to  Barney  Bloom's 
Turkish  bathrooms,  on  Third  street,  where  there  was 
a  physician's  scale,  to  weigh  in.  I  proceeded  to  the 
bathhouse  to  weigh,  expecting  Herrera  there  also.  I 
waited  for  three-quarters  of  an  hour,  and  commenced 
to  think  Herrera  was  not  going  to  appear.  I  stepped 
on  the  scale  before  the  officials  and  stakeholder,  and 
was  \vell  under  weight. 

About  9  o'clock  I  arrived  at  the  clubhouse  and  de- 
manded that  Herrera  weigh,  but  he  refused,  stating  that 
he  found  it  impossible  to  make  weight  after  eating  a 
hearty  meal.  I  allowed  him  two  pounds  grace ;  still  he 
refused.  Then  I  offered  to  fight  if  he  weighed  138  or 
less.  In  desperation,  I  finally  raised  the  weight  to  140. 
and  still  he  refused. 

As  the  last  resort  I  offered  to  fight  him  at  catch 
weights,  providing  he  step  on  the  scales.  He  refused, 
declaring  the  fight  off  entirely. 


BATTLING   NELSON  197 

THE  BATTLER'S  TRAINING  CAMP  AT  ESSINGTON  ON 

THE  DELAWARE.     PREPARING  FOR  THE  McGOV- 

ERN  FIGHT.     PHILADELPHIA  MARCH  14,  1906. 


(BY  FRED    ELDRIDGE.) 


\\V11  not  forget  old  Essington, 

Upon  the   Delaware, 
In   March,  when  we  were  training 

For   McGovern's   battle  there. 
At  Rosedale  Inn,  (Delaney'-s  house) 

And  "living  high"  for  fair. 

'Twas  Battling  Nelson's  training  camp, 

That   we   were  quartered   at, 
With  good  old  scouts  and  fighters — 
Starting  off  with  Champion  "Bat" 
And  John  R.  Robinson    the  Battler's 

friend 

And  a  pretty  good  one  at  that. 
•••i 

FRED  ELDRIDGE. 

Frank  McKinley,  of  Toledo, 

Was  one  of  them,  and  he 
In  passing  out  his  rights  and  lefts 

Was  busy  as  a  bee; 
And  at  his  weight  a  clever  lad, 

As  any  one  could  see. 

And  Hugh  McMahon,  a  sturdy  boy, 

Came  from  Toledo,  too, 
And   though    he    wasn't    frisky 

No  one  «ver  saw   him   "blue," 
And  few  there  were  of  boxing  ticks 

That  "Hughey"  couldn't  do. 

Kid  Abel,  came  from  out  the  West, 

Chicago  sent  him  down 
To   "rough   it   up"   with   Nelson, 

And  you  never  saw  a  frown 
Upon  the  good  Kid's  kindly  face — 

A  prince,  without  a  crown. 


193 


BATTLING    NELSON  199 

And  newsboy  Kelly,  from  Buffalo 

Was  there  amongst  the  bunch, 
But  all  he  tried  to  put  away 

Was  friend  Delaney's  "lunch." 
And  what  he  got  was  better  than 

A   "solar-plexus"  punch. 

And  Spink  came  down   from  Cleveland 

With  the  jolly  Roko  game, 
And   when   the  boys  got  busy 

It  was  anything  but  tame. 
And  all   developed  punches 

Very  difficult  to  name. 

As  down  the  road  of  life  we  roam 

And  battles  come  and  go, 
The  pleasant  hours  that  we  have  spent 

Bring  happiness,  and  so, 
Let's  all  remember  Essington, 

The   week  before  the  show. 


THE    BATTLER    AT    LOS    ANGELES    ASSISTING    SAN 
FRANCISCO'S  DESTITUTE. 

BY    ENGLISH    JACK. 

"Who  is  that  human  megaphone?" 

The  deafened  listener  cried 
"It's  Mr.  Cook,  the  talking  man" 

The  weary  one  replied. 

"Who  is  that  little  sun-burned  man 

Who  takes  in  so  much  dough?" 
"It's  Battling  Nelson"  he  replied 

"At  least,  they  told  me  so." 

For  they're  selling  evening  papers 

And  they're  going  by  the  score. 
They're  not   giving  any  change  back 

But  it  don't  make  people  sore 

It's  to  help  the  great  relief  fund 

They've  a  hundred  now  and  more, 
And  it's  Bat  fhat's  selling  papers  by  the  million. 


CHAPTER   XXII. 

Nelson  Describes  the  Great  Fight 
With  Cans  at  Goldfield. 

Immediately  after  the  Herrera  fiasco,  I  began  an- 
other theatrical  tour,  which  finally  landed  me  in  Chi- 
cago. Joe  Cans  had  been  following  me  for  some  time, 
and  he  would  appear  on  the  stage  of  the  various  show 
houses  and  challenge  me  for  a  fight. 

He  followed  me  into  the  American,  a  newspaper  in 
Boston,  one  day  and  became  so  persistent  that  we  al- 
most came  to  blows.  I  refused  to  listen  to  his  talk  for 
a  long  time  and  many  sporting  writers  and  the  general 
public  wondered  why. 

My  first  reason  for  holding  him  off  was  that  he  was 
looked  upon  as  one  of  the  crookedest  fighters  the  prize 
ring  has  ever  seen  or  ever  will  see.  He  was  a  self- 
confessed  fakir,  having  admitted  to  the  Terry  Mc- 
Govern  scandal  in  Chicago,  as  well  as  to  that  most 
palpable  fake  with  Jimmy  Britt  in  San  Francisco.  For 
all  of  that  he  was  a  wonderful  fighter  and  I  refused 
a  meeting  with  him  on  the  grounds  that  I  had  never 
been  mixed  in  a  scandal  of  any  kind  whatsoever,  and 
knew  the  minute  I  signed  articles  I  would  be  accused 
and  called  as  guilty  as  he. 

Finally  the  entire  coterie  of  sport  writers  the  coun- 
try over  came  out  and  demanded  a  meeting  between 
Cans  and  myself,  claiming  that  Cans  as  well  as  I  had 
beaten  all  the  lightweights  in  the  country,  and  it  was 
tip  to  him  and  I  to  settle  for  once  and  all  the  question 
as  to  who  was  the  real  undisputed  lightweight  cham- 
pion of  the  world. 

Upon  this  demand   I  finally  consented  to  a  meeting". 

The  meeting  of  Cans  and  I  was  spectacular  in  more 
ways  than  one.  I  had  just  spent  two  weeks  hunting  and 

200 


BATTLING   NELSON  201 

fishing  up  through  Ogden  canyon,  being  piloted  over 
the  country  by  Hegewisch  Anderson,  one  of  the  pioneers 
of  Utah.  I  had  a  grand  two  weeks'  season  of  hunting 
and  fishing.  I  then  went  to  Salt  Lake  City,  where  I 
engaged  in  an  exhibition  bout  of  three  rounds  with 
Willard  Bean,  the  Mormon  pugilistic  minister. 

Just  about  this  time  Goldfield,  Nev.,  was  in  the  height 
of  its  boom,  and  naturally  I  was  interested.  One  day  I 
picked  up  a  Goldfield  Sun,  which  stated  that  Jack  Clif- 
ford had  arrived  on  the  scene  and  challenged  the  en- 
tire camp,  and  the  club  promoters  were  advertising  for 
an  opponent  for  Clifford  for  Labor  Day.  As  I  had  en- 
joyed a  good  rest  and  was  just  aching  for  a  fight,  I 
sent  a  telegram  to  the  Sun,  informing  them  that,  if  in- 
ducements were  right,  I  would  come  and  meet  Clifford. 

In  the  course  of  an  hour's  time  I  received  an  answer 
asking  me  what  my  terms  were  to  meet  Clifford.  I 
wired  back  I  would  accept  a  $5,000  guarantee,  with  a 
$5,000  side  bet,  the  fight  to  be  to  a  finish. 

Evidently  the  Goldfield  sporting  blood  was  aroused 
to  bigger  game,  as  they  sent  me  the  following  answer: 

"Your   proposition    of  $5,000  guarantee   and   $5,000 
side  bet  accepted,  but  would  prefer  a  meeting  between 
yourself  and  Cans.    We  will  give  $15,000  for  same. 
(Signed)     'TEX    RICKARD. 

"Goldfield  Athletic  Club.     Answer." 

I  sent  back  the  following  reply: 

"Tex  Rickard,  Goldfield  Athletic  Club,  Goldfield,  Nev.: 
"Raise  bid  to  $30,000  for  Cans  match  an'd  accepted. 
"BATTLING    NELSON'." 

In  less  than  an  hour's  time  I  received  the  following 
telegram  from  Rickard : 

"Your  proposition  is  accepted.  Money  posted  J.  S. 
Cook  &  Co.  Bank;  will  forward  to  Salt  Lake  or  any 
place  you  name." 


202 


BATTLING   NELSON 


BATTLING   NELSON  203 

I  wired  back  to  Rickard  and  told  him  to  wire  the 
money  to  the  San  Francisco  Call  and  that  if  this  was 
done  we  would  come  on  and  make  the  match.  Rickard 
responded  promptly.  As  I  didn't  know  Tex  Rickard's 
standing  at  that  time  I  wired  him  either  to  send  on  $500 
expense  money  or  have  John  Nolan  and  Jim  May,  pro- 
prietors of  the  Palace  in  Reno,  guarantee  it — which  he 
did.  My  manager  went  to  Goldfield  and  arranged  the 
"minor  details,"  and  when  I  arrived  a  few  days  later 
Cans  and  everybody  interested  was  on  the  scene  and 
held  a  meeting  and  signed  articles.  I  was  to  receive 
in  addition  to  my  $20,000  of  the  purse,  $2,500  bonus 
and  $500  expenses,  making  a  grand  total  for  my  end  of 
$23,000.  Cans  was  given  $1,000  bonus  and  expenses  in 
addition  to  his  $10,000  guarantee,  win,  lose  or  draw. 
We  drew  $69,715,  which  was  undoubtedly  the  largest 
amount  in  gate  money  ever  taken  in  at  a  prize  fight  in 
the  history  of  the  ring. 

Much  discussion  was  aroused  regarding  the  "three 
time  weighing  in,"  namely  at  12  o'clock,  at  1 130.  and 
again  at  3  P.  M.  on  the  day  of  the  contest. 

This  was  done  to  avert  any  more  "Herrera  fiascos,"  as 
I  had  just  experienced  one,  at  a  very  great  expense. 
Nevertheless,  neither  my  manager  nor  I  asked  Gans  to 
do  a  single,  solitary  thing  that  I  myself  didn't  agree  to 
do,  and  do  willingly.  Therefore,  I  don't  think  we 
should  be  criticised.  "What's  good  for  the  goose  ought 
to  be  good  for  the  gander."  Articles  follow  as  printed 
in  Goldfield  Sun  Aug.  12,  1906: 

ARTICLES  OF  AGREEMENT  WHICH  FIGHTERS  HAVE 
SIGNED. 

THIS  AGREEMENT,  made  and  entered  into  this  llth  day  of 
August,  A.  D.  1906,  by  and  between  the  Goldfield  Athletic  Club, 
party  of  the  first  part,  and  Joseph  Gans  and  Battling  Nelson, 
the  parties  of  the  second  part,  WITNESSETH: 

That  for  and  in  consideration  of  the  sum  of  One  Dollar 
($1)  to  each  of  the  parties  in  hand  paid  by  the  other  parties,  the 
receipt  of  which  is  hereby  mutually  and  severally  acknowledged, 
the  parties  hereto  agree  as  follows: 


204  BATTLING    NELSON 

The  first  party  agrees  to  give  to  the  second  party  a  purse 
of  Thirty  Thousand  Dollars  ($30,000)  for  a  glove  contest  to  a 
finish  to  be  held  in  the  town  of  Goldlield,  County  of  Esmeralda, 
State  of  Nevada,  September  3,  1906,  at  the  hour  of  three  (3) 
o'clock  p.  m.,  said  purse  to  be  divided  between  the  second 
parties  upon  the  basis  of  Twenty  Thousand  Dollars  ($20,000) 
to  the  said  Battling  Nelson  and  Ten  Thousand  Dollars  ($10,000) 
to  the  said  Joseph  Cans,  win  or  lose,  said  Athletic  Club,  at  its 
own  exipense,  further  agrees  to  provide  a  suitable  arena,  ad- 
vertising matter,  etc.,  for  the  proper  and  efficient  handling  of 
the  patrons  of  said  contest. 

Said  second  parties  agree  to  accept  the  division  of  the  purse 
as  above,  and  to  enter  into  said  contest  with  the  club,  and  to 
do  all  things  required  of  them  by  the  State  of  Nevada,  in  re- 
gard to  "Glove  Contests/'  upon  the  following  terms  and  condi- 
tions: , 

FIRST — Marquis  of  Queensbury  rules  to  govern  the  contest; 
five  (5)  ounce  gloves. 

SECOND — Second  parties  are  to  weigh  one  hundred  thirty- 
three  (133)  pounds,  both  parties  to  "weigh  in"  at  12  noon,  1 :30  and 
3  o'clock  p.  m.  on  the  day  of  the  fight,  and  to  weigh  not 
more  than  one  hundred  thirty-three  (133)  pounds  at  any  of  the 
times  above  stated;  the  last  "weighing  in"  to  be  at  the  arena; 
first  two  "weighings  in"  to  be  at  convenient  places  designated 
by  the  club. 

THIRD — Soft  bandages  allowed;  referee  to  decide  as  to  suffi- 
ciency. 

FOURTH — Orders  by  referee  to  break  to  be  given  by  word  of 
mouth  only. 

FIFTH — After  a  fighter  has  knocked  down  his  opponent,  he 
must  retire  to  his  corner. 

SIXTH — Each  contestant  has  a  right  at  any  time  during  the 
contest  to  have  a  representative  inspect  the  gloves  or  other  ap- 
paratus used  by  his  opponent,  such  inspection  to  be  had  only 
during  the  intervals  of  the  call  of  "time"  and  in  no  wise  to 
interfere  with  the  proper  handling  of  each  contestant  by  his 
seconds. 

SEVENTH — The  referee  shall  be  furnished  by  the  club. 

EIGHTH — The  San  Francisco  Call  to  be  official  stakeholder. 

The  first  party  and  each  of  the  second  parties  hereto  agree, 
for  the  faithful  performance  of  the  covenants  and  conditions  of 
this  agreement  to  deposit  in  the  John  S.  Cook  &  Co.  bank,  in 
Goldfield,  Nevada,  the  sum  of  Five  Thousand  Dollars  ($5000) 
each;  in  case  the  first  party  causes  a  forfeiture,  said  sum  of 
Five  Thousand  Dollars  ($5000)  is  to  be  divided  between  the 
second  parties;  in  case  either  of  the  second  parties  causes  a 
forfeiture  of  this  contract,  his  deposit  of  Five  Thousand  Dol- 


BATTLING   NELSON  205 

lars  ($5000)  is  to  be  divided  equally  between  the  first  party  and 
the  other  second  party. 

IN  WITNESS  WHEREOF,  The  said  first  party  has  caused  these 

presents   to  be   executed   by   its    President    and   attested   by   its 

Secretary,  and  the  second  parties  have  hereunto  set  their  hands 

and  seals  the  day  and  year  in  this  agreement  first  above  written. 

GOLDFIELD  ATHLETIC  CLUB. 

By  G.  L.  RICKARD,  Its  President. 
BATTLING  NELSON.       (SEAL) 
JOE  CANS.         (SEAL.) 
By  W.  S.  ELLIOTT,  Its  Secretary. 
Signed,  Sealed  and  Delivered  in  Presence  of 
MILTON  M.  DETCH. 

This  fight  was  given  more  publicity  than  any  other 
contest  in  the  history  of  pugilism,  including  such  great 
battles  as  the  Fitzsimmons-Dempsey  and  the  Sullivan- 
Corbett  fights  at  New  Orleans,  and  even  the  great  Cor- 
bett-Fitzsimmons  go  at  Carson  City,  Nev. 

The  widespread  interest  in  the  fight  attracted  hordes 
of  sporting  people  from  all  over  the  universe.  Gold- 
field  at  that  time  had  a  population  of  less  than  2,500 
people.  To  get  to  Goldfield  you  had  to  ride  thirteen 
hours  straight  out  on  the  desert  from  the  main  line,  and 
only  one  train  a  day  on  regular  schedule. 

Every  newspaper  in  the  United  States  that  could  af- 
ford it  had  a  representative  there  to  report  the  fight. 
We  met  in  a  specially  constructed  arena,  which  cost  the 
promoters  $15,000  to  build.  It  was  located  down  on  the 
flats,  two  blocks  from  the  main  street.  The  edge  of  the 
fence  extended  directly  into  a  graveyard. 

It  was  a  warm,  clear  afternoon.  The  exact  time  of 
the  starting  of  the  contest  was  3:23  P.  M.  Cans  and  I 
weighed  in  under  weight — fit  and  ready  for  the  fight 
of  our  lives.  Cans  was  expected  to  outpoint  me  during 
the  early  part  of  the  fight,  but  at  the  end  of  the  third 
round  I  retired  to  my  corner,  telling  my  seconds  that  I 
would  knock  him  out  in  the  next  round.  I  had  just 
hurt  him  with  a  good  hard  left  half-scissors  hook  to  the 
liver  which  finally  proved  his  undoing.  Cans  stalled 
through  the  fourth  and  fifth  rounds  and  commenced  to 


206  BATTLING   NELSON 

take  quite  a  lead.  In  the  eighteenth  round  he  had  a 
decided  lead.  In  the  nineteenth  and  twentieth  I  com- 
menced to  hit  my  fighting  stride  and  took  quite  a  lead 
myself.  Up  to  this  time  Cans  had  been  the  favorite  in 
the  betting.  The  tide  switched,  however,  after  the  twen- 
tieth round,  and  I  was  then  an  overwhelming  favorite, 
people  betting  $500  to  $100  that  I  would  win.  There 
was  scarcely  a  taker  in  sight.  After  that  round  it  was 
impossible  to  force  Cans  to  fight,  as  he  would  hold, 
hang  on,  clinch,  stall,  back  up  and  run  away. 

There  was  a  clause  in  the  articles  of  agreement  that 
we  were  to  break  at  the  order  from  the  referee  and  he 
was  not  to  lay  hands  upon  us.  George  Siler  evidently 
forgot  about  such  a  clause  or  else  didn't  care.  Several 
times  during  the  fight,  when  I  was  in  close  doing  ef- 
fective work  punishing  Cans  in  the  body,  Siler  deliber- 
ately took  hold  of  my  hair  and  pulled  me  back,  allowing 
Cans  to  thump  me  on  the  jaw. 

At  the  forty-second  round  it  was  getting  dark  and 
wculd  have  been  impossible  for  the  fight  to  have  con- 
tinued over  three  rounds  more  at  the  outside.  During 
the  latter  part  of  the  contest  Cans  went  back  to  his  cor- 
ner several  times  vomiting.  As  he  reached  his  corner 
at  the  end  of  the  forty-first  round,  he  heaved  violently 
and  I  could  tell  by  his  condition  that  his  finish  was  very 
near. 

As  the  gong  sounded  for  the  forty-second  round  I 
sailed  over  to  Cans'  corner  and  met  him  within  a  yard 
of  his  chair.  I  went  after  him  hammer  and  tongs,  de- 
termined to  knock  him  out.  I  had  backed  him  about 
half  way  across  the  ring  when  I  delivered  the  final 
punch,  a  hard  left  half-scissors  hook  to  the  liver,  that 
traveled  less  than  a  foot.  This  punch  was  delivered 
with  the  forefinger  and  thumb,  the  knuckles  being  up, 
and  landed  directly  on  his  liver,  on  the  right  side  of  his 
body,  just  above  the  second  rib. 

This  is  the  punch  that  toppled  the  black  champion 
over.  Referee  Siler  commenced  to  count  and  had 


BATTLING   NELSON  207 

reached  the  count  of  "four"  when  Cans'  seconds 
jumped  up  on  the  edge  of  the  ring  and  began  yelling, 
"Foul!  Foul!" 

The  referee  then  stopped  counting  and,  thrusting  me 
aside,  waited  almost  a  minute,  when  he  declared  that 
Cans  had  won  on  a  foul. 

I  made  a  vigorous  protest,  claiming  that  I  had  not 
dealt  a  foul  blow,  but  it  was  all  to  no  avail.  I  said  then 
and  still  declare  that  Cans  deliberately  quit  under  pun- 
ishment for  fear  of  being  knocked  out  legitimately 
by  me. 

Cans  either  put  one  over  on  Siler,  claiming  to  have 
been  hurt  by  a  foul  blow,  or  else  I  was  beaten  by  jobbery. 

Two  years  later  I  knocked  Cans  out  twice  with  the 
same  identical  punch,  delivered  in  the  same  place  and 
on  the  same  spot.  The  referees,  Jack  Welsh  and  Eddie 
Smith,  declared  no  foul  blows  were  struck. 

Marshall,  Texas,  July  27,  1908. 

The  official  box  office  statement  of  Xelson-Gans  finish 
fight  at  Goldfield,  Nevada,  before  the  Goldfield  A.  i  .. 
September  3,  1906,  as- follows: 

927  at  $25 $23.175 

130  at     20 2,600 

400  at      15 6,000 

1,760  at     10 17,600 

4,062  at       5 20,340 

7,285  $69,715 

There  were  about  500  entered  without  paying  admis- 
sions, including  newspaper  men,  deputies  and  special  of- 
ficers, making  a  total  of  almost  8,000  people  in  attend- 
ance. There  were  about  1.500  women  in  attendance 
from  all  parts  of  the  world. 

r..  ,  • 

Signed 

T.  L.  RICKARD,  President. 
\Y.  S.  ELLIOTT,  Secretary. 


208  BATTLING   NELSON 

WAS  IT  A  FOUL? 

The  Exact  Blow  Which  Lost  Nelson  His  Fight  With  Gans 


BATTLING   NELSON 


THAT  LITTLE  BATTLING,  FIGHTING  DANE. 

BY    MR.    R.    H.    GUELICH. 

They  talk  about  these  scrappers, 

And  these  fighting  men  of  fame; 
But  the  only  real  fighter, 

Is  that  little  battling  Dane. 
His  name  is  Battling  Nelson, 

They  call  him  Battling  Dane; 
There  are  a  lot  of  fakers, 

Who  try  to  kill  the  game, 
But  the  Battler  is  a  scrapper 

Who  never  lost  his  name; 
He  fought  in  old   Nevada, 

A  country  that  is  fame; 
He  beat  a  big  black  negro, 

And  they  robbed  him  just  the  same; 
He  fought  in  California, 

They  thought  that  he  was  dead, 
But  that  little  battling,  fighting  Dane, 

Knocked  off  that  negro's  head. 
There  are  a  lot  of  Champions; 

They  are  Champions  just  by  name, 
The  only  real   Champion, 

Is  that  Little  Battling.  Fighting  Dane. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


Bat  Takes  a  Trip  Abroad  and  is  Royally 
Entertained — Helps  Union  Labor. 

Shortly  after  my  unsatisfactory  affair  with  Joe  Cans 
I  decided  to  take  a  trip  abroad.  Can  you  beat  that  for 
a  fellow  who  ten  years  before  had  been  riding  on  the 
trucks  of  a  train  and  slinging  hash  at  a  cheap  restaur- 
ant? But  you  never  can  tell. 

I  rigged  myself  up  in  a  swell  layout  of  clothes  and 
booked  passage  on  the  steamer  Majestic.  Finally  I  set 
sail  from  New  York  and  arrived  in  Liverpool  a  week 
later,  after  a  most  delightful  voyage. 

I  was  met  by  a  committee  of  English  sports  and  es- 
corted to  London.  There  I  put  up  at  the  Hotel  Cecil. 
I  had  a  great  time  for  a  couple  of  days  and  then  ac- 
cepted an  engagement  at  one  of  the  big  music  halls  at 
Newcastle  on  the  Tyne.  I  showed  in  conjunction  with 
the  Gans-Nelson  pictures  and  proved  as  big  a  drawing 
card  over  there  as  I  had  in  the  United  States. 

TENDERED    A    BANQUET. 

I  was  tendered  a  banquet  by  the  Hon.  Louis  Zollner, 
Danish  Consul  .at  Newcastle.  Among  the  notables  pres- 
ent were  the  Lord  Mayor  of  Newcastle — Count  Ou- 
bridge  and  Major  Harvey  Scott.  The  dinner  was  laid 
in  the  select  banquet  hall  of  the  Northumberland  Cafe. 
A  number  of  speeches  were  made  and  they  finally  called 
on  me.  I  felt  pretty  good  that  night  and  I  managed  to 
say  that  I  appreciated  the  compliment. 

As  I  stood  there  in  swell  clothes  I  couldn't  help  going 
back  to  the  day  that  I  licked  the  Terrible  Unknown  in 

210 


211 


212 


BATTLING   NELSON 


Wallace's  circus,  and  had  my 
coat  and  vest  stolen  as  well  as 
my  highly  prized  \Yaterbury 
watch. 

After  the  dinner  the  entire 
party  attended  the  theater  as 
my  guests  in  a  private  box. 

It  was  in  London  that  1 
had  a  good  chance  to  show 
my  American  spirit.  As  a  re- 
sult I  think  I  can  truthfully 
say  that  no  fighter  has  more 
friends  in  London  than  I  have 
today. 

I  met  with  such  over- 
whelming success  as  a  draw- 
ing card  that  two  days  after 
my  opening  night  I  was 
signed  for  a  twelve  weeks'  contract  in  the  city  of  Lon- 
don, on  the  Holborn-Empire  circuit.  Under  my  contract 
I  was  to  receive  $1,000  per  week  to  show  in  one  house 
at  a  time.  I  only  worked  a  week  when  the  Artists' 
Federation  went  on  a  strike.  The  Artists'  Federation 
consisted  of  practically  all  the  actors  and  actresses  work- 
ing in  England  and  on  the  continent. 

REFUSED   TO  WORK  AS  SCAB. 

Naturally,  as  any  American  would,  I  refused  to  work 
unless  the  managers  and  the  federation  settled  their 
difficulties.  I  waited  around  London  a  few  days  to  see 
if  they  would  settle  their  difficulties  and  then  crossed 
the  English  channel,  arriving  at  "Gay  Paree."  I  spent 
about  a  week  sight-seeing,  after  which  I  returned  to 
London.  LJpon  my  arrival  at  the  Hotel  Cecil  I  was 
served  with  a  notice  to  appear  in  court  and  answer  to 
a  charge  of  breach  of  contract  by  the  theatrical  asso- 
ciation with  whom  I  had  signed.  This  suit  was  later 
settled  by  compromise. 


BATTLING   NELSON  213 

The  following  week  found  me  showing  at  the  Palace 
Theater,  Manchester,  England,  in  an  independent  house, 
which  was  not  involved  in  the  trouble  at  all. 

As  the  strikers  had  not  come  to  an  agreement  with 
the  managers'  association  I  thereupon  decided  to  return 
to  the  one  and  only  country  on  the  universe — 
AMERICA.  I  was  instrumental  to  a  certain  extent  in 
winning  the  strike  for  the  artists.  I  have  received  num- 
erous letters  from  the  presidents  of  the  artists'  federa- 
tions in  the  different  cities  of  England  thanking  me  for 
the  grand  and  noble  stand  that  I  took  in  refusing  to 
work  as  a  scab  while  they  were  striking.  Before  com- 
ing to  America  I  visited'  Cork,  Dublin,  the  Killarney 
Lakes,  and  last  but  not  least,  the  Killarney  Castle  and 
kissed  the  good  old  Blarney  Stone. 

SLEPT  IN  THE  KING'S  SUITE. 

While  visiting  in  Manchester  I  hit  the  hay  in  the 
same  royal  suite  that  King  Edward  used  when  visiting 
in  Manchester.  This  suite  is  the  most  beautiful  one  to 
be  found  in  England  and  is  located  on  the  ground  floor 
in  the  Midland  Hotel. 

And  they  turned  me  out  of  the  swell  hotels  of  New 
York!  Can  you  beat  it?  And  they  say  America  is 
a  free  country! 

The  night  before  leaving  good  old  Ireland  I  visited 
that  well-known  coast  town  of  Queenstown,  putting  up 
at  the  Queen's  Hotel. 

Next  morning  I  departed  for  America  on  the  steam- 
ship Lucania,  arriving  on  the  evening  of  March  2  in  the 
harbor  of  the  great  and  only  New  York  town. 

CROWD    MET    HIM    IX    NEW    YORK. 

I  was  met  at  the  docks  by  a  throng  of  friends  and 
sport  writers  that  would  do  honors  to  a  king. 

I  immediately  set  sail  for  a  return  meeting  with  my 
most  hated  rival — Joe  Cans.  I  found  it  impossible  to 


214  BATTLING   NELSON 

get  an  immediate  meeting  with  Cans,  therefore  went 
after  the  next  best  fighter  available. 

I  departed  from  New  York  for  my  home,  Hegewisch, 
111.,  to  pay  a  short  visit  with  the  folks  and  to  rest  up  a 
bit.  While  visiting  there  Cans  happened  in  Chicago  and 
was  showing  at  the  Trocaclero  Theater,  where  I  picked 
up  his  trail  and  challenged  him  for  a  return  battle,  con- 
senting to  every  proposition  he  made  with  the  excep- 
tion of  guaranteeing  him  the  winner's  end  of  the  purse, 
win  or  lose.  Quite  a  discussion  arose  regarding  our 
relative  drawing  powers  on  the  stage.  Some  of  the 
sport  writers  claimed  that  Cans  was  superior  as  a  draw- 
ing card  and  was  entitled  to  the  lion's  share  of  the 
purse,  win  or  lose. 

Others  agree  that  I  was  just  as  good  a  card,  or  better 
than  Cans,  and  that  Cans  would  draw  for  his  end  in  a 
fight  with  me  more  money  for  losing  than  he  would  re- 
ceive for  winning  over  any  other  opponent  in  the  conn- 
try. 

This  assertion  proved  correct,  as  Cans  fought  Spike 
Robson,  in  Philadelphia,  knocking  him  out.  Later  he 
fought  Rudolph  Unholz,  the  alleged  Boer.  He  re- 
ceived for  both  bouts  less  than  half  of  what  he  received 
for  his  fight  with  me  before  Jim  Cofrroth's  club  on  July 
4,  1908,  when  he  lost  the  championship.  We  fought 
for  a  winner's  and  loser's  end  as  I  predicted  we  would 
when  we  met. 

COULDN'T  GET  CANS  TO  SIGN. 

I  found  it  impossible  to  get  a  return  meeting  with 
the  negro  at  the  time  and  therefore  signed  up  to  meet 
my  old  rival,  Jimmy  Britt,  at  San  Francisco,  before 
the  San  Francisco  Athletic  Club  on  July  31,  1907. 

We  met  in  the  evening  at  Dreamland  Pavilion,  which 
was  packed  to  the  limit,  the  gate  receipts  amounting 
to  almost  $25,000. 

We  fought  at  133  pounds,  weigh  in  at  6  P.  M.  on  the 


THE    BATTLER'S    VERY    EARLIEST  AXD    LATEST    PHOTOGRAPHS 
215 


216  BATTLING   NELSON 

day  of  contest.  I  was  a  decided  favorite  at  2  to  i  in 
the  betting,  as  I  had  in  the  previous  battle  knocked 
Jimmy  out  cold  in  eighteen  rounds. 

In  the  next  chapter  I  will  make  an  explanation  con- 
cerning this  fight  that  may  prove  interesting. 


SOME  NELSONIAN  LOGIC  AND  WITTICISMS. 

BY 

BATTLING   NELSON, 

Lightweight  Champion  of  the  World. 

NEVER  give  up  until  you're  licked.  Then  fight  all 
the  harder. 

I'm  prouder  of  my  clean  record  and  honorable  ring 
career  than  I  am  of  all  my  lands,  mines  and  money  put 
together. 

Be  honest  and  if  you  can't  be  honest  don't  be  any- 
thing, which  is  a  polite  interpretation  for  a  world  fa- 
mous saying. 

I  started  in  as  the  Ice  Man — now  Cans,  Corbett,  Britt 
and  other  boxers  say  I'm  the  NICE  man. 


I  did  not  squander  my  hard  earned  money  in  gambling 
and  drink.    Neither  did  I  hide  it  under  the '"SINK." 


On  September  9,  1908,  I  found  after  a  bit  of  study 
that  I  had  been  fighting  just  4,386  days,  or  twelve  years 
and  six  days.  Each  and  every  one  of  those  days  was 
fraught  with  many  trials  and  tribulations.  Still  I  am 
happy  withal,  even  though  I  own  the  brow  which  wears 
the  crown. 

Boys  listen  a  second:  Don't  drink,  don't'  chew,  don't 
smoke,  don't  gamble,  don't  swear.  Then  you  can  fight 
if  you  care.  Yes — and  with  a  sturdy  constitution,  a 
clear  conscience  and  a  vicious  wallop  for  your  enemies. 


Nelson  in  a  Class  by  Himself, 
Says  Joe  Cans. 


FORMER    CHAMPION     DECLARES     NO    LIGHTWEIGHT     HAS    A 
CHANCE  WITH  DANE  IN  LONG  GO. 

According  to  Joe  Cans,  and  certainly  none  knows 
better  than  the -dethroned  champion,  Battling-  Nelson  is 
in  a  class  by  himself  in  the  lightweight  division.  The 
old  master,  who  hates  Nelson  with  all  the  hatred  that 
a  bitter  ring  rivalry  of  several  years  can  produce,  would 
not  hand  the  Durable  Dane  such  a  boquet  did  he  not  be- 
lieve absolutely  that  it  was  true.  Cans  admits  that  there*- 
are  a  few  lightweights,  including  himself,  who  pos- 
sibly can  best  the  Battler  over  a  short  route,  but  when 
it  comes  to  fighting  with  him  until  one  or  the  other 
drops  the  Baltimore  boxer  declares  Nelson  to  be  in- 
vincible at  his  weight.  Cans  spent  a  few  hours  in  Chi- 
cago, Friday,  on  his  way  East  from  the  coast.  It  took 
some  time  to  draw  him  out  on  the  subject  of  Nelson, 
which  is  a  sore  one  with  him,  but  after  much  persuasion 
he  unburdened  himself  as  follows: 

"Nelson  is  the  best  lightweight  over  a  distance  that 
I  ever  saw,  and  I  have  been  fighting  as  long  or  longer 
than  anybody  in  the  game  today.  There  are  a  few  of 
us  who  might  get  decisions  over  him  in  short  bouts,  but 
I  am  frank  to  admit  that  the  long  goes  are  the  ones  to 
decide  championships  rightly.  I  was  in  pretty  good 
shape  at  Colma  the  other  day  and  think  I  could  have 
whipped  any  other  133-pound  man  in  the  business.  But 
I  stood  no  chance  against  Nelson.  I  hit  him  blows  with 
which  I  have  knocked  out  many  heavier  men  than  he, 
but  they  had  no  effect  other  than  to  snap  his  head  back. 
He  is  simply  impervious  to  punishment.  I  had  no 
chance  at  all  and  knew  it  after  the  first  few  rounds.  I 

217 


218  BATTLING    NELSON 

fought  on  because  I  wanted  to  die  game  and  last  as  long 
as  I  could.  Nelson  is  as  tough  as  nails,  as  game  as  they 
make  them  and  the  most  determined,  desperate,  per- 
sistent fighter  I  ever  saw  in  action.  He  can  take  a 
world  of  beating,  nobody  knows  how  much,  and  I  don't 
believe  there  is  a  man  in  the  world  at  his  weight  who 
can  hold  his  own  with  him  in  a  bout  scheduled  for  forty- 
five  rounds  or  to  a  finish.  Nelson  is  a  real  champion — 
the  best  in  his  class." — Story  published  by  Chicago  Sun- 
day Examiner,  Sept.  2Oth,  1908. 


I  may  be  a  subject  of  Denmark,  or  better — was,  but 
I  have  no  doubt  been  the  SUBJECT  of  much  worry  for 
a  band  of  ill-mannered  ring  followers  and  their  "bread- 
winners" in  this  good  old  land  of  the  free — U.  S.  A. 


Enthusiastic  writers  of  late  have  been  wont  to  call  me 
"the  PEERLESS  DANE,"  "the  DURABLE  DANE," 
etc.  This  is  all  very  nice,  but  I  am  simply  Battling  Nel- 
son, of  Hegewisch,  Illinois,  a  champion  boxer,  that's  all. 


My  advice  to  the  thousands  and  thousands  of  en- 
thusiastic young  men  who  are  continually  writing  me 
asking  information  and  advice  as  to  the  possibilities  of 
the  art  of  self  defense— is  DON'T. 


Many  there  come,  boys,  but  few,  very  few,  indeed,  are 
chosen.  Then  the  road  is  ribbed  with  snags,  thorns  and 
pitfalls.  Few  youngsters  could  have  withstood  the 
knocks  Yours  Truly  encountered.  I  was  lucky — that's 
all. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

The  Champion  Ate  Too  Much  Steak  and 

Came  Near  Losing  Out — Third 

Fight  With  Britt. 

My  failure  to  control  a  good  healthy  appetite  came 
near  losing  me  all  the  honors  that  I  had  worked  so  many 
years  to  gain.  It  was  during  my  third  fight  with  Britt, 
and  in  that  connection  I  think  I  owe  the  public  an 
explanation. 

I  had  been  chasing  Cans  all  over  the  country  for  a 
return  match,  but  his  conditions  were  such  that  I  could 
not  accept  them.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  do  not  think 
he  wanted  to  fight  at  all. 

After  traveling  all  over  the  country  I  found  it  im- 
possible to  get  him  in  the  ring  again  and  I  finally  con- 
sented to  meet  my  old  rival,  Jimmy  Britt,  in  a  twenty- 
round  go  at  the  Auditorium  Pavilion,  San  Francisco. 
We  were  to  fight  at  133  pounds  and  weigh  in  at  6  o'clock 
P.  M.  on  the  day  of  the  fight. 

Mind  you,  I  am  not  trying  to  take  anything  away 
from  Britt  for  the  great  fight  that  he  put  up,  but  the 
real  cause  of  my  bad  showing  lay  in  a  big  juicy  steak 
that  I  got  outside  of  before  going  into  the  ring. 

ATE  A   HEARTY   MEAL. 

Directly  after  weighing  in  at  the  Central  billiard  hall, 
on  Ellis  and  O'Farrell  street,  I  and  my  party  retired 
to  Thompson's  cafe,  next  door,  where  I  had  ordered  "a 
fighter's  after-weigh-in  meal,"  consisting  of  tenderloin 
steak,  baked  potatoes,  toast  and  tea,  to  be  ready  at  6:15 
P.  M.  and  on  the  table.  I  was  there  promptly,  accom- 
panied by  Jack  Grace,  Red  Cornett,  Eddie  Madsen, 
Martin  F.  Welsh  and  H.  A.  French,  news  editor  of 
the  Frisco  Call.  I  began  to  eat  before  the  waiter  came 
round  to  take  the  orders  of  the  rest  of  the  party. 

219 


220  BATTLING   NELSON 

They  all  ordered  steaks,  the  same  as  I  had,  and  the 
waiter,  miscalculating  the  persons  present,  brought  in 
an  extra  one.  About  the  time  he  served  the  rest  of  the 
party  I  had  finished  my  meal  and  he  set  the  extra  steak 
directly  in  front  of  me.  I  felt  good,  and  the  steak,  I 
must  say,  was  excellent.  I  thought  it  a  shame  to  see 
it  go  to  waste,  and  thereupon  I  ate  over  half  of  it.  We 
left  the  cafe  about  a  quarter  of  8  and  I  was  hurried  into 
the  ring  at  9:20. 

As  usual,  I  started  right  after  Britt,  and  before  we 
had  been  boxing  thirty  seconds  I  received  a  hard  left 
hook  plumb  in  the  pit  of  the  "kitchen."  This  punch 
was  followed  with  one  or  two  in  every  round  thereafter 
for  half  of  the  fight.  I  was  terribly  hurt,  but  no  one 
seemed  to  realize  my  condition  but  myself.  In  fact, 
I  hardly  showed  any  effects  of  being  distressed  until 
after  we  passed  the  tenth  round,  as  was  evident  by  the 
betting.  As  late  as  the  seventh  round  they  were  betting 
even  money  I  would  win  inside  of  the  ten-round  limit.  I 
never  stopped  forcing  the  fight,  and  tried  to  be  as  vic- 
ious as  I  knew  how,  knowing  by  Britt's  actions  that  he 
was  afraid  to  mix  matters.  So  I  bullied  and  bluffed  him 
through  to  the  finish. 

BRITT    LOST    CHANCE. 

Jimmy  Britt  lost  the  chance  of  a  lifetime  by  not  taking 
advantage  of  my  condition,  as  if  ever  there  was  a  man 
in  the  world  whom  I  had  fought  that  had  a  show  what- 
ever of  putting  me  down  for  the  count  it  was  this  same 
Jimmy  Britt.  After  the  thirteenth  round  I  only  held  up 
and  fought  through  gameness  and  my  natural  instinct 
of  fighting.  The  old  bull-dog  courage  would  not  down 
in  me,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  was  setting  a 
hot  pace. 

Only  once  during  the  entire  fight  did  Britt  pick  up 
enough  courage  to  mix  it.  This  was  in  the  last  thirty 
seconds  of  the  twentieth  round,  when  he  tore  after  me  in 
"do  or  die"  style,  and  I  am  glad  that  he  didn't  pick  up 
courage  any  sooner.  As  soon  as  the  last  gong  rang  for 


BATTLING   NELSON  221 

the  ending  of  the  twentieth  round,  Referee  Jack  Walsh 
immediately  declared  Britt  the  victor.  I  retired  to  my 
corner  and  before  I  got  to  the  chair  I  was  vomiting 
violently. 

I  went  to  my  dressing-room,  where  I  hurried  to  dress. 

I  drove  to  Burns's  baths  in  our  automobile,  where  I 
retired  for  the  night  a  very  sick  but  much  wiser  young 
man.  The  meal  cost  in  actual  value  $12.35,  but  I  nave 
dubbed  it  since  "the  fifty-thousand-dollar  steak/'  In 
reality  it  cost  a  great  deal  more  than  this  amount,  for 
the  reason  that  most  of  the  sporting  public  thought  that  I 
was  a  back  number  as  a  fighter.  I  knew  the  cause  of 
losing  this  fight ;  knew  in  my  heart  that  I  shouldn't 
have  lost,  therefore  would  not  give  in,  but  was  willing  to 
start  from  the  bottom  and  fight  up  to  the  championship 
again. 

This  I  did,  as  is  well  known,  when  I  started  by  knock- 
ing Jack  Clifford  out  and  fighting  up  to  the  world's 
championship,  where  I  knocked  out  the  old  master, 
Cans,  without  the  question  of  a  doubt,  on  two  occasions, 
thereby  winning  the  crown,  which  I  am  the  possessor 
of  to  this  day.  Determined  to  regain  my  laurels,  I  de- 
cided to  start  over  again  and  work  my  way  up,  but  the 
climb  this  time  was  not  so  long.  In  one  way  my  bad 
showing  with  Britt  was  a  blessing  in  disguise,  for  it 
caused  Cans  to  think  I  was  all  in,  and  he  finally  con- 
sented to  a  match. 

Practically  losing  a  decision  to  Jimmy  Britt  was  al- 
most as  hard  a  blow  as  if  someone  had  tossed  a  bomb- 
shell under  my  office  and  scattered  me  and  all  I  pos- 
sessed to  the  winds.  I  migrated  to  the  hills  of  Montana 
for  a  little  hunt  and  recreation,  trying  to  bear  down  the 
past  and  forget  that  I  had  ever  had  any  hard  luck.  On 
the  way  to  the  Yellowstone  I  stopped  off  at  Red  Lodge, 
Montana,  and  engaged  one  Tom  Freebury,  a  local  pride, 
in  a  four-round  exhibition,  before  Dan  Davis'  athletic 
club,  for  which  I  received  $450. 

A  few  days  later  I  happened  into  Billings,  Montana, 


222  BATTLING   NELSON 

one  of  the  greatest  little  sporting  towns  in  the  west. 
Tony  Minder,  proprietor  of  the  Topic  theater,  engaged 
me  to  box  my  old  rival,  Charley  Berry,  from  Hoodo- 
ville — Milwaukee — three  nights  at  $200  per  night,  in 
four-round  exhibition  bouts.  A  few  days  later  I  visited 
Minot,  North  Dakota.  At  that  time  there  was  an  in- 
stallation of  the  Elks  Lodge  there,  and  they  being  a 
sporty  lot,  and  being  aroused  over  my  appearance  there, 
suggested  a  boxing  match.  Clarence  H.  Parker,  a  per- 
sonal friend  of  mine  as  well  as  a  promine'nt  member  of 
the  Elks,  was  on  the  arrangement  committee  and  ap- 
proached me  as  to  boxing  an  exhibition  for  the  enter- 
tainment of  the  Elks,  with  Mark  Nelson,  to  which  I 
readily  consented.  We  boxed  four  spirited  round  on 
October  26th,  for  which  I  received  $250  and  expenses. 

After  the  exhibition,  I  was  invited  as  a  guest  of  Clar- 
ence Parker  to  attend  a  deer  hunt  to  be  held  at  Charles 
Hewets'  camp  at  Stroud  on  the  Missouri  river,  about 
fifteen  miles  from  Williston,  N.  D.  I  spent  a  pleasant 
week  with  Parker  and  friends  and  we  bagged  eighteen 
deer  and  coyote.  Of  the  lot  I  bagged  two  nice  bucks 
and  a  coyote. 

So  ends  my  career  of  1907. 

*********>** 

I  arrived  in  the  lucky  Mormon  state  at  Ogden,  Utah, 
where  I  fought  Jack  Clifford  on  January  I3th,  I  suc- 
ceeded in  knocking  him  out  cleanly  in  the  fifth  round. 
Being  idle  practically  for  a  year's  time,  my  fighting 
blood  was  up  and  I  went  in  at  the  start  determined  to  go 
right  after  the  championship.  Clifford  never  was  a 
world  beater,  although  he  proved  a  stumbling  block  for 
many,  and  many  a  near  champion.  He  had  knocked  out 
several  opponents,  breaking  two  of  their  jaws  and  was 
dubbed  "Jack  the  Jaw-breaker." 

We  fought  before  the  Twin  City  Athletic  Club,  which 
was  under  the  management  of  William  Guiney,  the  fight 
taking  place  in  the  Grand  Opera  House.  I  knocked  him 
out  with  a  right  uppercut  to  the  jaw.  When  he  went 


BATTLING   NELSON  223 

down  he  lay  limp  as  a  rag  for  several  seconds,  after 
Referee  Abe  Pollack  had  tolled  off  the  fatal  ten  seconds. 
The  last  round  is  given  here  in  detail  as  sent  over  the 
Associated  Press  wire: 

"Round  5 — Nelson  rushed  across  the  ring  to  Clif- 
ford's corner  where  Jack  swung  a  hard  right  landing  on 
Nelson's  ear.  Nelson  waiting  to  land  a  knockout 
steadied  himself,  pushed  Clifford  back  with  a  straight 
left.  Clifford's  nose  bleeding.  He  clinched  and  held 
on.  Nelson  braced  himself,  shot  a  right  uppercut  which 
landed  on  Clifford's  jaw  which  dropped  him  to  the  floor. 
Bat  landed  with  such  force  the  blow  could  be  heard  in 
the  gallery. 

The  fight  critics  at  the  ringside  stated  that  Nelson 
showed  faster  and  to  better  advantage  than  in  any  of 
his  recent  battles. 

BAT  GOES  TO  LOS   ANGELES  TO   MEET  THE  JOKE — UNHOLZ. 

After  knocking  out  Jack  Clifford  I  boarded  the  Los 
Angeles  Limited  due  for  Los  Angeles,  where  I  was 
billed  to  meet  one  Rudolph  (Boer?)  UNHOLZ.  We  met 
on  February  4th  before  Tom  McCarey's  club  in  a  ten 
round  bout,  which  in  my  opinion  resembled  a  hundred 
yard  sprint,  more  than  a  regular  boxing  bout.  For  ten 
rounds  Rudolph  was  content  with  racing  from  one  side 
of  the  ring  to  the  other  with  me  in  hot  pursuit.  Of  all 
the  fighters  I  have  ever  met  Unholz  is  without  a  doubt 
the  biggest  joke  of  them  all.  On  one  occasion  when  the 
Joke — Unholz  turned  his  back  and  ran  across  the  ring  I 
playfully  kicked  him  with  the  side  of  my  shoe.  It  was  to 
laugh. 

Owing  to  the  boxing  laws  there,  we  were  compelled 
to  fight  ten  rounds  to  a  no  decision  verdict.  This  de- 
prived me  of  a  well  earned  victory. 

Within  a  month  after  the  time  I  had  met  the  joke  of 
the  prize  ring — Unholz  in  a  ten  session  sprint  I  again 
met  my  old  rival  Jimmy  Britt — for  the  fourth  and  last 
time. 


224  BATTLING   NELSON 

I  was  determined  to  fight  each  and  every  month,  and 
meet  all  the  minor  lights  and  force  the  public  to  make 
Cans  tie  up  with  me.  I  met  Britt  on  March  3d  at  Mc- 
Carey's  club. 

I  held  the  upper  hand  during  the  contest  and  in  the 
sixth  round  floored  Britt,  and  the  bell — was  the  sweetest 
kind  of  music  in  his  ears.  From  the  sixth  round  on  to 
the  finish  it  was  a  case  of  Britt  stall  and  run  away  as 
best  he  could — and  as  he  is  the  champion  staller  of  the 
world  he  managed  to  last  the  ten  sessions.  Of  course, 
Referee  Charlie  Eyton  was  not  allowed  to  give  a  deci- 
sion under  the  rules. 

At  the  ringside  were  quite  a  few  out-of-town  sport 
writers,  and  each  and  every  one,  including  the  Los 
Angeles  critics,  was  of  an  unanimous  opinion — except 
W.  W.  Naughton  of  San  Francisco,  Cal.,  who  was  sent 
there  for  his  paper — the  San  Francisco  Examiner. 

This  is  where  H.  M.  Walker,  sporting  editor  of  the 
Los  Angeles  Examiner,  won  my  admiration  by  writing 
the  fight  just  as  he  saw  it — "Nelson  Wins  From  Here 
to  Hegewisch  and  Back."  His  story  appeared  on  the 
same  pages  that  appeared  W.  W.  Naughton's  story — 
"Britt  Wins  Easy." 

BOXES  DRAW   WITH   ATTELL. 

On  March  3ist,  I  met  Abe  Attell  in  a  fifteen  round 
bout. 

Attell  had  previously  been  accused  of  stalling  and 
loafing  in  all  his  contests.  This  was  one  time  when  he 
was  forced  to  extend  himself  to  the  limit,  as  he  was 
chased  from  one  side  of  the  ring  to  the  other  and 
backed  into  the  corner  and  forced  to  fight  every  inch  of 
the  going.  We  went  along  fairly  even  until  in  the  four- 
teenth round  when  I  slipped  a  good  hard  left  to  his  jaw 
and  it  began  to  look  like  curtains  for  Abe.  This  was 
where  Attell  was  forced  to  do  his  utmost  to  last  the 
round  out.  He  came  to  the  scratch  rather  fresh  in  the 
fifteenth  round  and  we  did  some  tall  slugging,  and  the 
final  bell  found  us  in  a  hard  mixup. 


BATTLING   NELSON  225 

CANS'  RETURN  MATCH  ONLY  A  MATTER  OF 
A  DAY.    THE  BATTLER  BOXES  AN  EX- 
HIBITION  WITH   THE  CHAMPION 
"GLOBE  TROTTER" JACK 
GRACE. 

Determined  to  keep  up  the  good  work  and  fight  at 
least  once  a  month  I  traveled  to  Seattle,  Washington, 
where  I  was  booked  to  meet  Kid  Sealer.  In  the  mean- 
time I  had  engaged  Willus  Britt  to  act  in  the  capacity 
of  manager,  and  to  close,  if  possible,  a  match  with 
Gans.  Just  before  arriving  at  Portland,  Oregon,  I  re- 
ceived a  wire  from  Willus  Britt  telling  me  to  stop  in 
Portland  and  communicate  with  him  over  the  long  dis- 
tance telephone  regarding  the  Gans  match.  I  felt  very 
much  elated  over  the  news,  as  I  knew  my  life's  ambition 
would  be  realized  if  the  match  could  be  closed. 

After  three  long  distance  conversations  with  Willus 
Britt  and  several  hundred  words  over  the  W.  U.  tele- 
graph, the  match  was  within  a  few  hours  of  being  closed. 
I  continued  to  Seattle  determined  to  meet  Sealer  before 
Johnny  Reed's  club.  When  I  arrived  at  the  hotel 
Washington  Annex — I  received  a  telegram  from  Mana- 
ger Willus  Britt  stating  that  the  contest  between  Gans 
and  I  was  closed  for  July  4th.  However,  it  was  stipu- 
lated that  I  must  declare  the  Kid  Sealer  match  off,  oth- 
erwise I  would  lose  out  on  a  match  with  the  negro  for 
all  time  to  come. 

I  looked  up  Johnny  Reed,  the  manager  with  whom 
I  had  signed  articles  and  informed  him  that  in  order 
to  close  up  the  match  with  Gans  I  would  be  compelled 
to  forfeit  my  match  at  his  club  with  Sealer.  Reed  and 
I  were  very  good  friends  and  he  felt  very  much  elated 
over  the  opportunity  of  my  meeting  Gans,  however  he 
hated  to  lose  the  Nelson-Sealer  match,  as  we  had  al- 
ready set  all  the  northern  towns  talking  of  our  coming 
battle. 


226  BATTLING   NELSON 

I  agreed  to  stand  all  of  the  Seattle  club's  expense  of 
the  Nelson-Sealer  match,  if  released  from  my  contract. 
Johnny  Reed  displayed  his  true  sportsmanship  when  he 
refused  positively  to  allow  me  to  pay  one  dollar  of  the 
expenses  our  match  had  incurred. 

He  at  once  released  my  contract,  and  even  insisted 
that  I  accept  my  transportation  to  Seattle  and  back  to 
San  Francisco,  which  he  had  advanced  me. 

The  Seattle  citizens,  feeling  the  loss  of  the  Nelson- 
Sealer  fight,  insisted  that  I  show  at  one  of  the  local 
theaters. 

The  Sullivan-Considine  management  secured  my  con- 
tract to  work  four  days  at  the  Star  Theater,  doing  a 
three 'round  exhibition  with  that  old  globe  trotter,  Jack 
Grace. 

The  Seattle  public  displayed  their  appreciation  by 
packing  the  theater  four  days,  and  I  received  a  total 
cash  bundle  of  over  $1,000. 

As  Grace  made  good  as  a  sparring  partner,  I  carried 
him  along  to  Portland,  where  I  showed  another  week. 
I  went  direct  to  'Frisco  and  immediately  began  training 
for  the  big  battle  with  the  negro,  which  was  scheduled 
to  take  place  on  July  4,  1908. 

I  went  to  Menden  Hall  Springs  for  a  week's  training 
with  my  assistants,  Jack  Grace,  Jeff  Perry,  Red  Cor- 
nett,  Percy  Dana  and  Manager  Willus  Britt. 

We  spent  a  week  at  the  springs  hunting  and  climbing 
hills  and  doing  road  work,  etc.  We  found  the  high  alti- 
tudes very  beneficial.  Next  we  went  to  Millett's  train- 
ing quarters  at  Colma,  Cal.,  which  had  been  my  old 
lucky  stamping  grounds. 

THE    BATTLER    THRIVES   ON    ROKO    DURING    TRAINING. 

I  put  in  three  weeks  of  good  hard  training,  for 
WHAT  I  FIGURED  THE  MOST  IMPORTANT 
BATTLE  OF  MY  CAREER. 

I  considered  Roko  the  most  important  factor  during 
my  training,  as  it  developed  speed  and  agility,  as  well 
as  sharpness  of  the  eye. 


Youth,  Perpetual  Motion  and  the  Durabil- 
ity of  Concrete  Wall  a  Winning 
Combination. 


DEFEAT  OF  GREATEST  FIGHTER  OF  MODERN  TIMES  A  SHOCK 

TO   WISE  ONES   WHO   BACK   THEIR  OPINION   OF 

CANS'  ABILITY  AT  ODDS  OF   I O  TO  3. 


RUGGED  DANE  RUSHES  HIS  OPPONENT  COM- 
PLETELY OFF  HIS  FEET. 


RESISTLESS,     1 M  I'L Ai  A  I'.LE    ATTACK    OF    CHALLENGER    CAN- 
NOT BE  STALLED  OFF  BY  THE  TITLE    HOLDER. 

i;v  R.  A.  (BOB)  SMYTH. 

Battling  Nelson,  lightweight  champion  of  the  world. 

So  reads  the  record  of  the  Queensberry  ring  as  the 

result  of  the  meeting  in  the 
arena  just  across  the  San 
Mateo  county  line  yester- 
day of  Joe  Cans,  who  held 
the  title  six  years,  and  the 
young  Dane  who  has  fought 
his  way  so  gallantly  from 
obscurity  to  the  highest 
place  attainable  among  box- 
ers of  his  weight.  A  great 
throng  witnessed  the  pass- 
ing of  Gans,  who  has  stood 
out  as  the  marvel  of  the 
ring  for  almost  every  one  of 
the  seventeen  years  he  has 
been  before  the  public.  The 
title  goes  into  clean  hands, 
Xelson  never  having  been  a 
party  to  a  dishonest  act  in  his  ring  career. 

227 


228  BATTLING   NELSON 

Although  Cans'  frame  was  the  picture  of  a  well  mod- 
eled athlete,  the  vitality  had  left  the  body.  This  was 
seen  quickly  when  Nelson  fairly  rushed  him  off  his  feet 
with  the  pace  he  set.  There  is  a  time  worn  adage  that 
"youth  will  be  served,"  and  this  had  its  confirmation 
yesterday  as  it  has  so  many  times  in  the  past.  It's  a 
story  as  old  as  the  ring  of  one  fight  too  many,  and  it  is 
always  the  sturdy  young  man  who  lowers  the  colors  of 
the  master  hand  at  the  game. 

END  PITIFUL  AND  DRAMATIC. 

The  end  of  Cans'  victorious  career  in  the  ring  was 
pitifully  dramatic,  and  for  many  the  pleasure  of  Nel- 
son's success  was  tempered  by  regret  that  Cans  could 
not  have  made  a  better  stand.  When  the  pace  began  to 
tell  upon  him  he  looked  an  old,  old  man.  This  was 
accentuated  in  his  dressing  room,  where  he  gave  way 
to  his  feelings.  He  had  put  his  wonderful  powers  to 
the  test  once  too  often,  and  in  a  brief  time  all  the  honors 
of  his  career  had  been  swept  away. 

Cans'  heart  seemed  broken  by  the  time  he  had  gone 
eight  rounds.  At  the  end  of  the  third  round  he  told 
his  seconds  that  he  felt  his  strength  slipping  away  from 
him.  His  nerve  gave  way  completely  in  the  sixteenth 
round,  when  he  had  the  palsy  and  he  could  not  control 
himself.  He  had  not  regained  his  composure  by  the 
time  he  reached  the  ferry  en  route  to  his  quarters  at 
San  Rafael. 

Cans  was  either  knocked  down  or  went  down  to  avoid 
punishment  eight  times  in  all  during  the  fight.  On  a 
number  of  occasions  he  was  just  getting  up  as  the  time 
keeper  was  about  to  count  him  out.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
he  was  counted  out  twice  officially  in  the  last  round. 
The  first  time,  owing  to  the  tumult,  Referee  Jack  Welsh 
did  not  hear  the  count  of  10  and  the  fight  went  on.  The 
next  time  exhausted  nature  would  not  come  to  the  relief 


BATTLING   NELSON  229 

of  the  old  champion,  and  he  was  unable  to  regain  his 
feet. 

NELSON    A    WONDERFUL    ATHLETE. 

Of  Nelson  it  must  be  written  that  he  is  the  most  won- 
derful athlete  of  his  inches  in  all  the  world.  He  hardly 
drew  a  long  breath  during  the  fight.  Added  to  the  fact 
that  he  seems  absolutely  tireless  is  the  additional  quality 
of  being  insensible  to  pain.  He  took  blows  from  Cans 
which  seemed  to  have  enough  power  behind  them  to  fell 
an  ox.  When  they  landed  Nelson  merely  shook  his 
head  and  rushed  in  for  more.  Each  time  Cans  tried  to 
mix  matters  and  put  in  his  best  efforts  to  stop  the  Dane 
the  latter  came  back  fighting  all  the  harder.  He  Was 
relentless  in  his  attack. 

Nelson  did  his  most  effective  work  when  in  close.  He 
kept  both  arms  going  as  though  they  were  machine 
driven  and  he  landed  an  incredible  number  of  blows. 
The  majority  of  these  were  to  the  body  and  they  sapped  ' 
the  strength  of  the  colored  boxer  quickly  and  effectively. 
Although  few  admitted  Nelson  has  any  boxing  skill  he 
seems  to  find  a  way  to  land  on  the  cleverest  men  who 
have  faced  him. 

That  two  years' is  a  big  span  in  the  life  of  an  athlete 
who  has  passed  the  highest  point  in  his  career  was  dem- 
onstrated by  the  fight.  Although  Cans  had  none  of  the 
advantages  of  training  for  his  fight  with  Nelson  at  Gold- 
field  that  he  enjoyed  for  this  fight  he  was  not  so  effec- 
tive in  the  ring.  He  seemed  to  lack  the  hitting  power 
and  he  was  also  heavier  on  his  feet,  lacking  the  brilliant 
ducking  ability  and  footwork  which  marked  his  work 
in  the  Nevada  mining  camp. 

DANE    WAS    WELL    HANDLED. 

Nelson  has  undoubtedly  improved.  He  as  shrewdly 
handled  in  his  training  by  Willie  Britt  and  the  latter 


230  BATTLING    NELSON 

mapped  out  what  proved  to  be  a  brilliant  plan  of  cam- 
paign for  him  to  follow  in  the  ring.  Nelson  claimed 
after  the  Goldfield  fight  that  Cans  did  not  want  any 
more  of  his  game,  and  this  was  the  thought  which  car- 
ried him  into  the  ring  with  such  a  light  heart.  He 
seemed  absolutely  devoid  of  nerves.  This  was  shown 
in  the  tantalizingly  slow  manner  in  which  he  adjusted 
the  tape  on  his  hands  in  the  ring.  He  acted  as  though 
he  had  all  day  to  do  so,  and  the  crowd  marveled  at  his 
coolness.  He  fastened  the  banadages  well  up  his  wrist 
to  which  Selig,  representing  Cans,  objected.  Nelson 
paid  no  heed  to  it,  and  nothing  further  was  said  about 
the  matter. 

Nelson  is  a  cunning  fighter  in  the  ring  and  does  much 
more  effective  work  than  the  casual  spectator  sees. 
When  he  stood  up  and  boxed  Cans  he  showed  at  a  dis- 
advantage at  once.  He  could  be  hit  then  and  his  own 
work  was  not  so  effective.  His  tactics  were  to  rush  in 
at  the  first  opportunity,  and  resting  his  head  on  Cans' 
shoulder  he  was  ready  to  deal  out  blows  which  the  aver- 
age boxer  never  learns.  His  left  arm  is  peculiarly 
crooked  at  the  elbow,  making  it  terribly  effective.  It  re- 
quires no  effort  to  keep  it  up  in  boxing  position,  and 
when  Nelson  hooks  with  it  there  is  no  lost  power. 

With  Nelson  in  close  Cans  could  not  hit  him  effec- 
tively, although  he  tried  all  he  knew.  Added  to  this  was 
the  terrific  pace  set  by  the  Dane  which  would  have  a 
tendency  to  rush  any  man  off  his  feet.  .  Cans  knew  there 
was  a  long  route  before  him,  and  he  probably  tried  to 
conserve  his  energies,  but  it  proved  unavailing  with 
such  an  irresistible  force  in  front  of  him. 

GATE   RECEIPTS    HEAVY. 

There  were  7,598  paid  admissions,  which  represented 
an  attendance  of  nearly  9,000  spectators.  The  total  re- 
ceipts were  $24,031.  The  fee  of  Referee  Jack  Welsh, 
amounting  to  $500,  was  paid  out  of  this.  The  fighters 
received  70  per  cent,  of  the  receipts,  amounting  to 


BATTLING   NELSON  231 

$16,821.70.  Of  this  Nelson  received  60  per  cent,  or 
$10,093.02,  while  Cans  received  $6,728.68.  Promoter 
Jim  CofTroth's  share  was  $7,209.30,  out  of  which  he  has 
to  pay  the  expenses  of  handling  the  fight,  which  were 
heavy. 

Jim  May,  the  Reno  sporting  man,  was  the  heaviest 
winner  on  the  fight.  He  made  three  bets  with  Tex 
Rickard  at  the  ringside,  all  of  which  he  won.  He  first 
bet  $5,000  even  that  Cans  would  not  win  in  20  rounds. 
He  then  bet  $2,500  against  $5,000  that  Cans  would  not 
win  the  fight  irrespective  of  the  distance  it  went.  He 
ajso  bet  $2,000  even  that  Cans  would  not  win  in  15 
rounds.  Sid  Grauman  bet  May  $1,000  even  that  Cans 
would  win  in  20  rounds.  The  straight  betting  at  the 
ringside  went  to  10  to  3,  with  Cans  favorite. 

The  men  weighed  in  10  minutes  before  they  entered 
the  ring  to  fight.  The  scales  were  adjusted  by  John 
Clark,  the  stakeholder.  Cans  was  the  first  to  step  on 
the  platform  and  the  bar  did  not  rise.  Nelson  followed 
and  he  proved  to  be  within  the  weight  also.  There 
could  have  been  but  a  matter  of  ounces  in  difference 
in  the  weight. 

NELSON    LEAST    CONCERNED. 

When  the  last  details  had  been  disposed  of  and  only 
the  two  fighters  and  the  referee  were  in  the  ring,  Cans 
walked  about  near  his  corner  as  though  anxious  to  have 
the  fight  under  way.  Nelson  stood  quietly  in  his  corner 
and  seemed  the  least  concerned  man  in  the  vast  gath- 
ering. 

When  the  gong  sounded,  signaling  the  opening  of  the 
fight,  the  men  went  to  the  center  of  the  ring  and  Cans 
began  to  jab  Nelson's  nose  with  his  left.  He  landed 
frequently,  but  the  blows  did  not  seem  to  disturb  Nel- 
son, who  kept  forcing  the  champion  about  the  ring. 
Cans  varied  his  lefts  with  a  right  uppercut  and  Nelson 
came  back  with  two  lefts  to  the  head.  He  missed  a 
right  and  took  another  left  to  the  head. 


BATTLING   NELSON 


BATTLING   NELSON  283 

This  early  in  the  fight  the  men  began  to  get  in  close, 
and  while  they  were  not  clinched,  it  meant  about  the 
same  thing.  Near  the  end  of  the  round  Nelson  landed 
a  right  to  the  head  and  Cans  came  back  with  a  right 
and  left  as  they  broke  out  of  a  clinch.  At  the  end  of 
the  round  Cans'  mouth  was  bleeding,  while  his  blows 
apparently  had  no  effect  on  Nelson. 

Cans  landed  some  rights  and  lefts  to  the  head  in  the 
second  round  which  were  hard  enough  to  stop  any  one 
but  the  man  in  front  of  him.  When  the  round  opened 
Nelson  jabbed  Cans  four  times  with  a  left  to  the  head 
and  took  a  straight  right  to  the  nose  and  a  right  to  the 
jaw  as  punishment  for  his  temerity.  This  early  in  the 
fight  Cans  showed  a  propensity  to  hold  on. 

The  men  stood  head  to  head  in  the  center  of  the  ring 
and  Nelson  began  to  play  for  Cans'  body.  Cans  swung 
a  big  right  and  left  to  the  head,  but  it  only  sent  Nelson 
in  the  faster.  Nelson  started  after  Cans  quickly  in  the 
third  round  and  took  three  hard  blows  to  the  head  and 
a  particularly  hard  right  to  the  heart.  Cans  followed 
this  with  another  right  and  left,  but  Nelson  was  back 
at  him  fighting. 

BAT  BLEEDING  BUT  BUSY; 

Nelson  began  to  bleed  at  the  mouth  after  this.  Nel- 
son sent  a  right  to  the  body  and  a  left  to  the  head.  Nel- 
son slipped  down  and  Cans  showed  what  a  perfect  judge 
of  time  and  distance  he  is  by  hitting  Nelson  a  hard  right 
to  the  head  just  as  he  left  his  knees.  The  crowd  yelled 
"foul,"  but  the  referee  signaled  that  the  blow  was  a  fair 
one.  The  end  of  the  round  found  Cans  on  the  ropes 
and  being  punished  severely  about  the  body. 

In  the  fourth  round  Cans  opened  proceedings  with 
a  straight  right  to  the  head  and  a  right  to  the  body. 
The  referee  had  to  warn  Nelson  to  keep  his  head  up. 
Nelson  landed  a  hard  left  hook  to  the  bodv  and  Cans 
came  back  with  three  rights  in  succession  to  the  head. 


234  BATTLING   NELSON 

Cans  did  not  hear  the  bell  at  the  end  of  the  round  and 
struck  Nelson  after  it  had  sounded. 

The  fifth  round  found  them  head  to  head  and  Cans 
landed  several  hard  blows  to  the  body.  Nelson  landed 
two  hard  lefts  to  the  body  and  got  some  tough  ones  in 
return.  Nelson  was  working  hard  throughout  the 
round. 

There  was  little  to  choose  between  them  in  the  sixth, 
each  man  seeming  to  pay  particular  attention  to  the 
body.  The  crowd  seemed  to  scent  victory  for  Nelson  in 
the  seventh  round.  This  was  all  in  his  favor,  Cans 
doing  no  effective  work  whatever.  They  exchanged 
rights  for  the  head  and  Nelson's  blows  seemed  to  have 
the  more  force,  as  Cans  seemed  to  stop  fighting  after 
he  took  a  few  of  them.  At  the  end  of  the  round  the 
spectators  stood  up  and  cheered  wildly  for  Nelson. 
Cans'  right  eye  was  cut  in  this  round. 

Cans'  face  wore  a  serious  look  when  he  came  up  for 
the  eighth  round.  Nelson,  as  usual,  forced  matters  and 
fairly  drove  him  around  the  ring.  Cans  sent  a  right 
to  the  head  and  repeated  it  twice  without  a  return.  Nel- 
son began  to  use  his  left  and  landed  four  blows  to  the 
head  without  a  return.  He  followed  these  with  a  big 
overhand  right  to  the  head  which  hurt  Cans. 

Nelson  was  punishing  Cans  severely  at  the  end  of  the 
round. 

Conditions  remained  unchanged  in  the  ninth,  Nelson 
still  punishing  Cans  severely,  while  he  had  him  on  the 
ropes.  Cans  scored  often  to  the  head  in  the  early  part 
of  the  round,  but  his  blows  had  no  stopping  power  in 
them  and  the  Dane  kept  crowding  him. 

Cans  made  a  desperate  stand  in  the  tenth  round  and 
he  staggered  Nelson,  but  he  was  so  tired  himself  that 
he  could  not  follow  up  his  advantage.  He  opened  the 
round  with  a  right  to  the  head  and  took  a  hard  right 
uppercut  in  return.  Nelson  sent  a  left  to  the  head  and 
Cans  held  on.  Cans  sent  three  rights  to  the  head  hard 


BATTLING   NELSON  286 

when  Nelson  was  rocking  on  *  his  feet  for  an  instant. 
Once  Nelson  recovered  his  balance  he  bored  in  again  and 
evened  matters  up  with  his  opponent. 

Cans  was  badly  off  in  the  eleventh  round.  Nelson 
missed  a  big  right  to  the  head,  but  was  more  successful 
soon  afterward  with  a  right  and  left.  Cans  sent  a  right 
to  the  head  and  Nelson  chased  him  around  the  ring. 
Nelson  backed  Cans  into  his  (Nelson's)  corner  and  pun- 
ished him  badly.  The  windup  of  the  round  was  all  in 
Nelson's  favor. 

Nelson  apparently  knew  that  he  had  the  fight  won, 
as  he  fairly  ran  to  the  center  of  the  ring  to  meet  Cans 
in  the  twelfth  round.  Nelson  landed  his  left  to  the 
head  three  times  and  each  blow  shook  Cans  badly.  Nel- 
son sent  a  right  and  left  to  the  head  which  staggered 
Cans,  and  then  sent  a  hard  right  to  the  body  which,  put 
Cans  down  to  his  hands  and  knees.  Cans  took  nearly 
the  full  count  and  went  down  again,  this  time  on  his 
haunches.  For  the  third  time  he  hit  the  mat  and  re- 
mained eight  seconds. 

OPENS  WITH  RUSH  AGAIN. 

Nelson  had  Cans  practically  defenseless  in  the  thir- 
teenth round.  He  fairly  ran  out  of  his  corner  again, 
and  they  were  soon  head  to  head  in  the  center  of  the 
ring,  with  Nelson  punishing  his  man  severely  about  the 
body.  Nelson  sent  a  left  to  the  body  and  followed  this 
with  a  hard  right  which  sent  Cans  to  the  mat.  When 
he  stood  up  Nelson  landed  a  right  and  left-  to  the  jaw. 
Cans  being  unable  to  defend  himself. 

Cans  showed  a  flash  of  speed  in  the  fourteenth  round, 
but  the  harder  he  hit  Nelson  the  faster  the'  latter  eame 
back  at  him,  so  that  it  proved  an  unprofitable  style  of 
fighting  for  the  colored  boxer.  Nelson  kept  up  his  fusil- 
lade of  blows  for  the  body  and  punished  Cans  badly. 

Early  in  the  fifteenth  round  Cans  tried  to  duck  some 
of  Nelson's  swings,  but  his  efforts  were  painful  as  com- 


236  BATTLING   NELSON 

pared  with  the  skill  he  showed  in  this  department  of 
the  game  in  other  days.  Nelson  used  his  left  for  the 
head  with  deadly  effect  in  this  round  and  had  Cans  on 
the  ropes  near  its  end. 

Cans'  frame  was  quivering  convulsively  when  he  came 
up  for  the  sixteenth  round,  as  though  he  had  a  chill,  and 
medical  men  at  the  ringside  said  that  this  was  an  indi- 
cation that  he  had  lost  his  nerve.  He  held  on  to  Nelson 
as  soon  as  they  came  together  and  the  latter  peppered 
his  body  frequently  with  right  and  left.  Nelson  sent  a 
hard  right  to  the  heart  and  soon  had  Cans  in  a  corner. 
Cans  tried  a  right  to  the  head,  but  there  was  no  steam 
behind  the  blow. 

OLD    MASTER    DEFENSELESS. 

Nelson  was  after  him  relentlessly  and  the  once  peer- 
less Cans  had  no  defense  against  the  attack  of  his 
young  opponent.  Nelson  uppercut  Cans  with  his  right 
and  landed  that  terrible  left  to  the  head  again.  Cans 
went  down  on  his  right  knee  and  at  the  end  of  eight 
seconds  the  gong  sounded  the  end  of  the  round,  just 
saving  him  from  a  knockout  at  this  stage  of  the  fight. 

The  seventeenth  and  last  round  found  Nelson  spurred 
on  to  the  greatest  efforts,  as  he  knew  the  end  of  the 
fight  was  close  at  hand.  He  sent  a  right  to  the  head 
and  followed  this  up  with  a  jarring  uppercut.  Cans 
rushed  Nelson  to  the  ropes  and  the  Dane  slipped  back 
out  of  the  ring,  being  half  supported  by  the  lower  rope, 
which  caught  him  around  the  leg.  Cans  fell  over  him, 
putting  a  severe  strain  on  the  Dane. 

The  latter  was  up  without  any  delay  and  attacked 
Cans  viciously,  rushing  him  across  the  ring  and  Cans 
went  down  on  his  side,  being  partly  wrestled  down  and 
partly  hit.  He  was  down  on  his  haunches  a  moment 
afterward  and  stayed  almost  for  the  full  limit  of  ten 
seconds.  When  he  stood  up  Nelson  sent  a  hard  right 
to  the  jaw,  and  this  time  Cans  stayed  down  for  the. full 
count  of  nine. 


237 


238  BATTLING   NELSON 

COUNTED   OUT    TWICE. 

In  the  excitement  of  the  moment  the  spectators  could 
not  understand  under  what  conditions  Cans  had  lost. 
Referee  Jack  Welsh  pointed  to  Nelson  as  the  winner 
and  the  information  gradually  reached  the  men  through- 
out the  arena  that  Cans  was  knocked  unconscious,  and 
was  unable  to  respond  to  the  call  of  time  and  was 
counted  out.  After  the  fight  Official  Time  Keeper 
George  Harting  said  that  Cans  had  been  officially 
counted  out  twice  during  the  round,  the  first  time  there 
being  so  much  noise  and  confusion  that  the  result  was 
not  known  to  even  the  referee. 

With  the  end  of  the  fight  a  great  crowd  surged  to  the 
ringside  and  tried  to  hail  the  new  champion,  the  latter's 
seconds  throwing  towels  in  the  air  and  lifting  the  Dane 
high  above  their  heads.  Nelson's  father  was  one  of  the 
first  to  greet  him,  and  there  was  a  world  of  expression 
in  the  handshake  which  they  exchanged.  It  took  but  a 
few  minutes  to  remove  Nelson's  gloves  and  he  was  then 
ready  for  a  triumphal  exit  from  the  scene  of  his  victory. 
His  seconds  had  to  fairly  force  a  way  for  him  and  the 
big  crowd  cheered  as  he  made  his  way  to  the  dressing 
room. 

Cans  was  sitting  in  his  corner  in  the  meantime  in 
deep  distress  and  being  comforted  by  his  wife  and  his 
friends.  He  had  to  be  assisted  from  his  chair  and 
down  the  short  steps  leading  from  the  ring.  He  was 
still  shivering  as  though  with  a  chill  and  seemed  to  have 
no  control  over  his  movements. 


NELSON      SHOWS      HIS      SUPERIORITY      IN 
EARLY  STAGES  OF  THE  FIGHT,  PUNISH- 
ING GANS  SEVERELY. 

FIRST    ROUND. 

The  men  shook  hands.  After  feinting  with  the  left 
Gans  sent  in  three  smashes  to  the  face  and  swung  to 
the  ear.  As  Nelson  rushed  in  Gans  met  him  with  a 


BATTLING   NELSON  239 

right  uppercut.  Cans  backed  away  slowly  and  evaded 
Nelson's  onslaught.  They  went  to  close  quarters  and 
were  ordered  to  break  by  the  referee.  Before  breaking, 
however,  Nelson  planted  a  short  right  to  the  wind.  Mix- 
ing it  at  close  range  Cans  shot  right  and  left  to  the 
face  and  Nelson  retaliated  with  a  left  to  the  nose.  Nel- 
son rushed  Cans  against  the  ropes,  but  the  champion 
was  too  clever.  Wriggling  out  of  a  tight  place  Cans 
shot  right  and  left  to  the  face.  Nelson  rushed  in  close, 
this  evidently  being  his  mapped  out  plan  of  battle.  His 
efforts  to  land,  however,  were  fruitless.  The  round  was 
in  Cans'  favor.  Cans'  lip  bled  slightly  as  he  took  his 
seat. 

SECOND     ROUND. 

Cans  met  Nelson  with  two  straight  lefts  to  the  jaw 
as  the  Dane  rushed  in.  Nelson  swung  wildly  three 
times.  Cans  was  quick  to  take  advantage  of  this  and 
planted  three  hard  lefts  to  the  face.  He  followed  this 
with  two  short  right  arm  swings  id  the  jaw.  Nelson 
continued  to  fight  at  close  quarters  and  they  worked 
to  the  center  of  the  ring  without  harm  to  either  man. 
Cans  then  staggered  Nelson  with  a  succession  of  short 
swings  to  the  jaw,  but  they  did  not  appear  to  feaze  the 
Battler.  Cans  raised  Nelson's  head  a  foot  with  a  right 
uppercut  as  they  were  locked  in  close  embrace.  They 
continued  to  fight  head  to  head  and  every  time  Nelson's 
head  got  a  foot  away  from  Cans'  shoulder  Cans  sent  in 
a  right  and  left  wallop  to  the  jaw.  They  were  fighting 
in  Cans'  corner  as  the  round  ended,  which  was  in 
Cans'  favor.  It  is  apparent  that  Nelson  intends  to  fight 
at  as  close  quarters  as  possible. 

THIRD    ROUND. 

Cans  backed  slowly  away,  landing  right  and  left  on 
the  Dane's  jaw.  He  continued  to  play  with  Nelson  as 
if  the  latter  were  but  a  child,  landing  right  and  left 
to  the  face  at  will.  The  blood  started  to  spurt  from 


240  BATTLING   NELSON 

Nelson's  nose  as  they  emerged  from  a  clinch.  They 
continued  to  fight  in  close.  After  Cans  had  landed  two 
hard  rights  to  the  face  Nelson  sent  a  left  to  the  face, 
for  which  he  was  rewarded  with  a  vicious  swing  to  the 
face.  Nelson  fought  in  desperately  and  went  to  the 
floor  from  a  well  directed  swing.  Nelson  kept  boring 
in,  only  to  be  met  with  a  fusillade  to  the  jaw  which 
started  the  blood  flowing  in  a  stream.  Nelson  spat  blood 
and  went  to  his  corner  with  a  serious  expression  on 
his  face.  It  was  all  Cans. 

FOURTH    ROUND. 

Nelson  as  usual  tried  to  get  to  close  quarters,  but 
Cans  steadied  him  with  two  lefts  and  a  right  to  his  sore 
mouth.  They  wrestled  about  the  ring,  Cans  trying  to 
make  Nelson  step  back,  but  the  Dane  persistently  re- 
fused. Cans  then  rocked  the  Dane's  head  with  his  fav- 
orite short  arm  right  and  left  swings,  which  had  con- 
siderable force  behind  them.  Nelson  scarcely  landed  a 
blow  and  Cans  smiled  as  he  covered  up  from  the  Dane's 
relentless  attempts  to  land.  Every  time  Nelson  stepped 
away,  his  head  proved  a  target  for  Cans'  lightning  left. 
Nelson  then  surprised  the  champion  with  a  hard  rieht 
to  the  face.  Cans  landed  a  vicious  right  to  the  jaw,  but 
Nelson  danced  merrily  to  his  corner  as  if  nothing  had 
happened.  Nelson  was  bleeding  as  he  went  to  receive 
attention  from  his  seconds. 

FIFTH     ROUND. 

They  immediately  closed  in.  Nelson  tried  to  upper- 
cut  with  his  right,  but  the  latter's  guard  was  impreg- 
nable. Nelson  finally  swung  a  right  to  the  jaw  and 
Cans  retaliated  with  a  right  and  left  to  the  same  place. 
Nelson  again  sought  refuse  at  close  quarters.  Cans 
outfought  Nelson  as  the  men  had  their  heads  locked, 
sending  a  hard  right  to  the  stomach  and  two  lefts  to 
the  face.  By  way  of  diversion  Cans  hammered  away 
at  Nelson's  stomach,  but  the  Dane  continued  to  fight 


BATTLING   NELSON  241 

hard  at  close  quarters.  They  wrestled  about  the  ring, 
Gans  permitting  Nelson  to  do  all  the  work.  Cans  with 
consummate  generalship,  nursed  his  strength  and  Vent 
to  his  corner  with  his  head  held  high. 

SIXTH    ROUND. 

For  the  first  time  the  men  fought  for  half  a  minute 
at  arm's  length,  during  which  Gans  landed  a  couple 
of  lefts  to  the  Battler's  face.  They  immediately  re- 
sumed their  shoulder  to  shoulder  tactics,  without  re- 
sult. Nelson  landed  a  short  right  to  the  colored  man's 
ear  and  forced  the  champion  to  the  ropes.  However, 
he  did  not  land  to  any  extent  and  they  soon  fought 
their  way  to  the  center  of  the  ring,  where  Gans  planted 
a  vicious  right  to  the  kidneys.  In  a  clinch  Nelson  sent 
a  hard  drive  to  Cans'  face  and  they  exchanged  upper- 
cuts  to  the  jaw,  Nelson  giving  as  much  as  he  received. 
After  Gans  had  started  the  blood  from  Nelson's  mouth 
with  two  hard  left  punches,  Nelson  swung  a  hard  left 
to  the  jaw,  which  was  the  best  blow  he  had  landed  dur- 
ing- the  fight.  The  gong  at  this  stage.  This  was  more 
even  than  the  previous  rounds. 

SEVENTH    ROUND. 

Gans  backed  away  and  seemed  content  to  let  Nelson 
waste  his  strength  in  useless  wrestling.  Nelson  simply 
did  not  break  away,  and  suddenly  landed  right  and  two 
light  lefts  to  the  face.  Gans  then  staggered  Nelson 
with  a  right  swing  to  the  jaw  and  a  serious  rally  fol- 
lowed. Nelson  having  much  the  better  of  it.  He  landed 
right  and  left  to  Cans'  jaw  and  Gans  apparently 
clinched.  The  crowd  rose  to  its  feet  in  excitement. 
They  continued  to  mix  it,  and  Nelson  drove  left  and 
right  to  the  champion's  head  without  return.  The  bell 
ended  a  round  which  was  greatly  in  Nelson's  favor. 

EIGHTH    ROUND. 

Nelson  waded  right  in,  forcing  the  champion  to  break 
ground.  Gans,  however,  drove  right  and  left  to  the 


242  BATTLING   NELSON 

Battler's  face,  but  the  latter  did  not  give  way  an  inch. 
At  close  range  Nelson  swung  lightly  to  the  face,  after 
which  both  men  fought  very  carefully.  Nelson  stag- 
gered Cans  with  left  and  right  short  arm  swings  to  the 
jaw  and  a  moment  later  sent  in  a  hard  right  to  the  kid- 
neys. Nelson  crossed  right  to  the  face  and  forced 
Cans  to  the  ropes  for  a  moment.  Nelson  continued  to 
peg  away,  with  Cans  blocking.  Cans  sent  in  a  straight 
right  and  followed  it  with  a  vicious  left  uppercut  to  the 
jaw.  Nelson  swung  three  lefts  to  the  jaw  and  forced 
Cans  to  cover  up  after  landing  a  hard  swing  to  the  col- 
ored man's  face.  The  round  ended  with  Nelson  peg- 
ging away  at  Cans'  face.  It  was  Nelson's  round. 

NINTH    ROUND. 

Nelson  came  up  like  a  bulldog.  He  rushed  Cans 
around  the  ring  and  finally  jabbed  his  left  to  the  face, 
Cans  retaliating  with  left  and  right  to  the  same  place. 
Cans  caught  Nelson  at  arm's  length  and  sent  three 
rights  and  one  left  to  the  Dane's  jaw.  Nelson  closed 
in,  but  Gans  uppercut  him  twice  with  right  to  the  jaw. 
"Hold  your  head  up,"  Welsh  shouted  to  Nelson.  Nel- 
son did  so  and  immediately  Gans  clouted  him  with  a 
vicious  right  to  the  jaw.  Gans  rocked  Nelson's  head 
with  a  wicked  right  to  the  face,  but  it  did  not  stop  the 
Hegewisch  lad.  As  they  broke  from  a  clinch  Nelson 
caught  Gans  quick  with  a  vicious  left  on  the  liver.  He 
followed  his  advantage  by  sending  the  champion  through 
the  ropes  with  a  succession  of  rights  and  lefts.  Gans  had 
a  serious  expression.  It  was  Nelson's  round. 

TENTH    ROUND. 

Nelson  quickly  rushed  in  and  Gans  fought  desper- 
ately to  keep  him  away.  Gans  then  planted  two  solid 
rights  to  the  Battler's  jaw,  catching  the  Battler  at 
arm's  length.  They  immediately  went  in  close  and 
Gans  did  some  execution  with  right  and  left  to  the 
mouth.  Nelson  did  not  cease  fighting  for  an  instant. 


BATTLING   NELSON  243 

Gans  again  landed  right  and  left  to  Nelson's  sore  mouth. 
Nelson's  seconds  set  up  a  wild  shout.  The  Battler's 
mouth  was  covered  with  blood.  One  particularly  hard 
punch  staggered  Nelson.  Nelson  fought  back  viciously, 
however^  and  gave  Gans  no  rest.  The  round  ended 
with  Gans  having  the  advantage. 

ELEVENTH    ROUND. 

Nelson  danced  to  the  center  of  the  ring  and  imme- 
diately forced  Gans  about.  Gans  pegged  away  with  his 
left  for  the  jaw,  but  Nelson  was  relentless.  He  shook 
Cans'  blows  off  like  so  much  chaff  until  finally  Gans 
caught  him  a  terrific  clip  on  the  point  which  staggered 
the  Battler.  Gans  put  another  to  the  same  place,  like 
a  fiend.  Nelson  forced  Gans  to  the  ropes.  Gans  con- 
tented himself  with  nursing  his  strength  and  permitted 
Nelson  to  do  all  the  work.  They  fought  viciously  in 
middle  ring,  Nelson  planting  a  left  and  two  rights  to 
the  jaw.  Gans  rested  up,  but  Nelson  flung  two  rights 
to  the  stomach  which  forced  Gans  to  cover.  The  bell 
rang  at  this  stage.  Nelson  set  a  furious  pace  in  this 
round,  and  although  doing  all  the  work  was  the  fresher 
of  the  two.  Nelson  had  a  shade. 

TWELFTH   ROUND. 

Gans  met  the  oncoming  Battler  with  a  straight  left 
to  the  face  and  sought  to  punch  him  with  right  and 
left  to  the  same  spot.  Nelson  got  in  close  and  thwarted 
him.  Nelson  swung  his  left  to  jaw  as  they  came  from  a 
clinch  and  Gans  came  back  with  two  rights.  Nelson 
made  Gans  groggy  and  almost  sent  him  through  the 
ropes  with  a  right.  Cans'  seconds  threw  water  on  him. 
Gans  dropped  to  his  knees  from  a  left  uppercut  and 
looked  all  out.  Nelson  followed  him  about,  planting 
right  and  left  to  head  and  body.  Gans  took  the  count  of 
nine.  Nelson  rushed  up  to  the  beaten  champion  and 
Gans  again  took  the  count  by  being  hit  by  one  of  Bat's 
favorite  left  half-scissors  hooks  on  the  liver.  I(  looked 


244  BATTLING   NELSON 

as  though  he  could  not  last  out  the  round.  When  Cans 
got  to  his  feet  he  planted  a  straight  right  to  the  jaw  and 
the  bell  rang.  Cans  would  have  fallen  had  not  his  sec- 
ons  rushed  in  and  dragged  him  to  his  corner.  Cans  will 
probably  not  last  much  longer. 

THIRTEENTH  ROUND. 

Nelson  rushed  in  and  landed  two  lefts  on  Cans'  jaw. 
Cans  stayed  in  close  and  tried  for  the  Battler's  body, 
but  he  was  easily  blocked.  Cans  fought,  Nelson  ex- 
changing rights  and  lefts.  Nelson  then  floored  the 
champion  with  another  left  half-scissors  hook  on  the 
liver.  It  was  a  wicked  blow  and  Cans'  face  took  on  an 
agonized  expression.  Cans  stalled  and  was  evidently  in 
sore  straits.  Nelson  tried  to  reach  him,  but  Cans  hung 
on.  Nelson  worked  unceasingly  to  put  in  the  final 
punch.  He  hammered  away  at  Cans'  stomach,  finally 
forcing  the  champion  against  the  ropes.  Joe  fought 
back  very  determinedly.  Cans  did  considerable  stalling 
in  this  round,  which  belonged  to  Nelson. 

FOURTEENTH    ROUND. 

Cans  was  the  first  up.  They  worked  to  close  quarters 
and  Cans  used  all  his  cuteness  to  keep  the  Battler  at 
bay.  Nelson's  arms  kept  working  like  an  aerometer 
for  the  champion's  body  and  head  and  he  finally  swung 
a  right  and  two  lefts  to  the  jaw  and  then  three  left 
uppercuts  to  Cans'  jaw.  All  of  Cans'  ring  generalship 
could  hardly  protect  him.  Cans  covered  up  constantly 
and  made  little  attempt  to  land.  Nelson  swung  his 
left  to  the  jaw,  but  Cans  countered,  rocking  Nelson's 
head  with  right  and  left  short  arm  jabs.  This  served 
only  to  make  the  Battler  fight  the  harder,  and  he  landed 
a  couple  of  good  blows  as  the  round  ended.  The  round 
was  comparatively  even  and  both  men  bled  profusely 
as  they  sought  their  corners. 

FIFTEENTH   ROUND. 

Nelson  missed  a  vicious  left  swing  and  rushed  Cans 
to  the  ropes.  Nelson  forced  the  champion  against  the 


BATTLING   NELSON  24o 

ropes  and  Cans  apparently  held  on,  which  prevented 
Nelson  from  landing.  They  fought  shoulder  to  shoulder 
and  Cans  put  in  two  rights  to  the  face.  Nelson  put  in 
several  short  arm  rights  and  lefts  to  the  stomach  and 
varied  this  with  a  left  and  right  to  Cans'  sore  mouth. 
Nelson  again  sank  his  left  into  the  liver.  Joe  retaliated 
in  kind.  Cans  rocked  Nelson's  head  with  two  rights, 
Nelson  countering  by  sending  in  a  right  swing  to  the 
face  and  forcing  Cans  to  the  ropes.  Nelson  played  for 
the  colored  man's  stomach,  and  planted  three  short  arm 
jolts  to  that  spot  as  the  bell  ended  a  round  in  his  favor. 

SIXTEENTH    ROUND. 

Gans  came  up  trembling  apparently  from  a  slight 
chill.  Nelson  kept  after  him,  giving  the  champion  no 
rest,  but  none  of  his  blows  landed,  as  Gans  covered  up 
successfully.  Finally  Nelson  uppercut  to  the  jaw  and 
forced  Gans  into  a  neutral  corner  with  a  right  to  the 
stomach.  Nelson  caught  Gans  on  the  jaw  with  a  right 
swing  and  fought  him  to  the  open  ring.  He  hammered 
away  at  the  champion's  head  and  body  and  Gans  was 
scarcely  able  to  protect  himself.  Nelson  forced  Gans 
into '  his  own  corner,  but  the  champion  wriggled  out 
and  shot  right  and  left  to  Nelson's  stomach.  It  looked 
if  Gans  was  trying  to  invite  a  foul.  Finally  a  left  found 
its  way  to  Cans'  liver,  sending  him  to  his  haunches  for 
the  count  of  time.  Nelson  enjoyed  a  clear  advantage. 

SEVENTEENTH    ROUND. 

They  wrestled  for  half  a  minute,  Gans  appearing  a 
bit  freshened  up.  Some  ineffectual  sparring  followed 
with  the  men  locked  in  each  other's  arms.  Finally  both 
men  fell  through  the  ropes.  Nelson  forced  Gans  about 
the  ring-.  Xelson  s'ent  Gans  down  with  a  right  uppercut 
to  the  stomach.  Gans  took  the  count  of  eight  and  imme- 
diately Nelson  sent  him  against  the  ropes.  After  Gans 
rose  to  his  feet  Nelson  sailed  in  and  landed  a  good  hard 
left  half-scissors  hook  on  the  liver.  Gans  went  down 


246  BATTLING   NELSON 

for  the  third  time  and  although  trying  to  regain  his 
feet,  he  was  too  slow  and  was  counted  out.  Nelson 
was  declared  the  winner  amid  a  scene  of  tremendous 
excitement.  The  crowd  surged  into  the  ring  and  Nel- 
son was  fairly  smothered  with  congratulations.  He 
was  finally  carried  to  his  dressing  room  on  the  shoul- 
ders of  his  seconds. — From  San  Francisco  Call,  July  5, 
1908.  Ringside  Description. 

It  has  been  remarked  by  critics  who  read  the  ad- 
vance sheets  of  this  little  book  that  I  feature  most 
prominently  a  majority  of  the  boys  whom  I  knocked 
out.  This  is  true.  I  ask  my  Southern  friends  particu- 
larly to  note  that  the  picture  of  Joe  Cans  appears  in  the 
book  several  times.  They  will  also  note  that  in  all  the 
poses  he  is  down  upon  the  broad  of  his  back,  with  one 
exception — that  to  decide  whether  a  foul  blow  was 
struck — at  Goldfield,  Sept.  3,  1904.  The  final  punch 
delivered  just  before  Gans  quit — taken  from  moving 
picture  film  and  reproduced. 


BATTLING   NELSON 


247 


His  Heart  is  Like  Man  of  Iron. 


NERVES   OF    STEEL    PREVENT    HIM    FROM    GETTING    EXCITED 

IN    RING.        HEART    BEATS    AT    FIFTY    WHILE    NORMAL 

MAN    BEATS    AT   72    A    MINUTE.       IT    WILL    NEVER 

DO    FOR    THE    GREAT    BATTLER    TO    FALL 

IN  LOVE. 

//  has  been  stated  that  Battling  Nelson  is  the  wonder 
of  the  prize  ring;  that  he  is  an  abnormal  man.  In  or- 
der to  ascertain  the  facts  THE  TRIBUNE  secured  the 
services  of  Dr.  D.  D.  Crowley  to  examine  Nelson  in  the 
presence  of  H.  A.  Herrick,  news  editor  of  THE  TRI- 
BUNE. The  conclusions  are  given  herewith'. 

BY   DR.    D.    D.    CROWLEY. 

Evening  Tribune,  Oakland,  Cal.,  July  27,  1908. 

Battling  Nelson  has  a  perfect  nervous  system  along 
the  line  of  his  work,  that  of  pugilism. 

His  development  in  this  particular  is  extraordinary. 

There  is  no  indication  of  any  irritation  to  the  brain 
or  of  the  nerves  which  supply  his  important  organs. 

His  organs  that  act  independently  of  the  mind  are 
normal. 

His  brain  at  present,  an  organ  that  is  the  fountain 
head  of  the  nerve  system,  is  in  repose. 

BRAIN   OF  FIGHTER. 

It  has  no  irritability  or  exicitability.  It  is  the  brain 
of  a  fighter.  It  calmly  awakes  to  the  necessity  of  un- 
usual activity  without  wasting  a  single  ounce  of 
strength. 

In  other  words,  when  aroused  to  action,  either  of  de- 
fense of  offense,  his  brain  irritation  is  not  an  exag- 
gerated thought  or  a  mental  uncertainty.  The  action 

248 


BATTLING   NELSON  249 

is  not  uncertain — it  is  carried  out  without  the  waste  of 
any  material. 

For  these  reasons  a  blow  which  would  render  the 
usual  man  unconscious  would  have  no  effect  on  Nel- 
son. 

Physically  he  is  a  splendid  type  of  muscular  develop- 
ment. Ideal  in  many  points,  unusual  in  none. 

A    GREAT    HITTER. 

His    muscles    are    not   bunchy,    but    long,    almost    all 


OF  THE  PRIZE 


Secret  of 
Why  He  Has  Not  Been  Knocked  Out  Is  Discovered 


muscular  fibre,  with  very  short  tendons.  He  is  particu- 
larly well  developed  about  the  shoulders,  showing-  great 
"hitting"  power,  as  it  is  termed,  but  his  "stomach" 
muscles  are  particularly  well  developed  and  peculiarly 
defensive.  His  heart  action  is  abnormal.  It  responds 


250  BATTLING   NELSON 

to  exercise,  yet  in  less  than  15  seconds  the  heart  beats 
go  back  to  his  normal,  about  fifty  beats  a  minute. 

PERFECT    NERVOUS   SYSTEM. 

Nelson  is  remarkable  in  the  fact  of  his  perfect  ner- 
vous system,  which  is  accountable  for  many  elements  of 
his  physical  prowess  which  have  marked  him  as  an  un- 
usual fighter. 

The  ordinary  emotions  are  not  normal  with  him. 
Assuming  his  statements  of  no  abuse  of  his  system  by 
drinking,  smoking  or  other  excesses  to  be  true,  this 
splendid  nervous  system  will  yield  only  to  the  trials  of 
repeated  trainings. 

In  this  way  will  his  nervous  system  fail  to  provide 
for  him  his  wonderful  defensive  organization.  His 
nerve  resistance  will  be  less. 

Repeated  blows  on  the  head  will  in  time  awaken  a 
nerve  irritability.  His  brain,  that  organ  now  so  slow  to 
punishment,  will  become  more  sensitive  and  responsive 
to  violence. 

WHEN   TO  DEFEAT    HIM. 

Then,  and  only  then,  will  this  human  machine  lose  that 
spark  of  vitality,  that  aggressive  power  which  at  present 
makes  him  superior  to  other  men. 

D.  D.  CROWLEY,  M.  D. 


BY    H.   A.    HERRICK. 

Battling  Nelson,  lightweight  champiort  fighter  of  the 
world,  is  more  than  a  prize  ring  wonder.  He  is  a  scien- 
tific marvel — a  study  for  savants  and  perhaps  one  of  the 
few  natural  ideal  fighters. 

The  "Durable  Dane,"  as  he  fondly  likes  to  be  .called, 
is  declared  by  the  sporting  writers  to  be  the  sensation 
of  the  prize  ring. 

Science,  often  scoffed,  supplies  a  reason  for  all  this 
which  is  logical  enough  for  consideration,  dignified 


BATTLING   NELSON  251 

enough  for  discussion  and  of  enough  interest  for  serious 
treatment.  With  all  this  in  view,  The  Tribune  secured 
the  prompt  acquiescence  of  Battling  Nelson -to  submit 
to  an  examination  by  one  of  the  foremost  surgeons  on 
the  Pacific  Coast,  Dr.  D.  D.  Crowley  of  Oakland. 

Dr.  Crowley  was  requested  to  give  the  fighter  a 
thorough  examination  from  a  scientific  standpoint  and 
express  an  opinion  upon  such  physical  points  as  seem  to 
be  the  scource  of  differences  between  sporting  authorities. 
In  other  words,  to  scientifically  explain  some  of  the  un- 
usual points  of  superiority  which  this  fighter  has  indi- 
cated as  holding  above  his  other  competitors  in  the 
fighting  line. 

NELSON    ON     THE    GRILL. 

For  more  than  two  hours  Nelson  was  pinched,  slapped 
and  literally  turned  inside  out  by  the  calm  scrutinizing 
and  thorough  man  of  sciencce.  His  eyes,  his  teeth,  his 
toes,  his  past  life,  everything  was  systematically  tabbed 
and  noted. 

And  the  diagnosis? — 

Well  shorn  of  all  scientific  verbiage,  it  was  that  Batt- 
ling Nelson  was  a  specimen  of  that  rara  avis  in  the 
world  of  fighters — a  man  with  a  perfect  nervous  system. 

Until  you  have  that  explained  to  you  in  a  .way  which 
appeals  to  you  by  reason  of  its  deductions,  this  does 
not  seem  to  mean  much. 

When  Dr.  Crowley  exulted  over  this  discovery  after 
a  long  line  of  questioning  and  a  careful  examination  of 
the  fighter,  it  did  not  seem  to  be  so  awfully  apparent. 
But  as  he,  by  degrees  patches  the  questions  he  had  asked 
and  his  examination  discoveries  together  into  a  logical 
deduction  and  extraordinarily  plain  explanation,  it  be- 
came apparent  that  Nelson's  wonderful  success  in  the 
prize  ring,  his  lauded  title  of  "phenomenon"  was  ex- 
plained and  that  the  young  fighter  is,  aside  from  his 
pugilistic  class  standing,  a  real  physical  wonder. 


252  BATTLING   NELSON 

THE   HEART   BEAT. 

From  Dr.  Crowley  I  learned  that  the  heart  is  a  muscu- 
lar organ  situated  in  the  thorax  lying  greatly  to  the 
left  of  the  breast  bone.  It  is  a  hollow  muscle  whose 
mechanism  corresponds  in  a  degree  to  a  pump.  This 
organ  propels  the  blood  to  various  parts  of  the  body,  dis- 
tributing nourishment  to  all  of  the  tissues  and  carrying 
away  with  it  waste  materials  by  the  various  eliminating 
organs. 

The  frequency  of  the  heart  beat  in  the  adult  male  is 
about  72  to  the  minute.  While  standing  it  is  about  80 
beats;  while  sitting  about  70,  and  while  lying  down  66. 

So  long  as  blood  flows  to  the  heart  there  is  an  irrita- 
bility in  the  muscular  fibres  which  aid  in  its  movements. 
But  the  nervous  system  has  a  direct  and  important  in- 
fluence in  the  heart  movements.  The  pneumograstic 
nerve  slows  the  heart.  If  that  nerve  is  excited  or  irri- 
tated the  heart  becomes  slower,  but  if  cut  or  destroyed 
by  disease  the  action  of  slowing  the  heart  is  lost  and 
there  is  a  decidedly  increased  action.  The  sympathetic 
system  of  nerves  naturally  increase  the  heart  pulsation 
and  when  they  are  cut  the  pulsations  are  decreased.  A 
disease  of  these  nerves  therefore  increases  and  decreases 
the  rapid  beating  of  the  heart. 

THE  BLOOD  VESSELS. 

The  tone  of  the  blood  vessels,  the  free  respiration, 
have  much-  to  do  with  the  proper  circulation  of  blood 
which  is  necessary  to  the  nourishment  of  the  body. 
Respiration  is  an  involuntary  action  and  requires  no 
thought.  And  yet  a  mental  disturbance,  or  rather  an  ex- 
citability of  the  mind,  will  increase  the  number  of  res- 
pirations in  a  minute;  also,  the  number  of  pulsations  of 
the  heart. 

"The  increased  respirations  and  pulsations  through 
excitement,"  said  Dr.  Crowley  to  me,  "are  not  condu- 
cive to  a  great  muscular  effort. 

"The  calm  and  healthy  nervous  organization  will  bet- 


BATTLING   NELSON  263 

ter  sustain  the  body  in  any  physical  trial.  Of  course, 
under  an  extreme  physical  trial  of  endurance  the  heart 
must  beat  more  rapidly  to  nourish  the  body  and  to  keep 
the  blood  pure.  And  the  lungs  must  take  in  more  air 
by  greater  and  more  frequent  expansions,  that  oxygen 
may  be  conveyed  to  the  blood  and  suffocation  pre- 
vented." 

DOES    NOT    WORRY. 

"How  do  you  rest  the  night  before  a  fight?"  Dr. 
Crowley  asked  Nelson. 

"Just  the  same  as  if  it  was  ten  years  off,"  was  the 
quick  reply. 

"On  entering  the  ring  do  you  note  any  sort  of  chok- 
ing sensation?"  queried  the  Doctor. 

"No,  sir." 

"When  the  gong  strikes  to  go  to  the  center  of  the 
ring,  do  you  notice  any  such  feeling?" 

"I  should  say  not,"  and  the  fighter  sniffed. 

Nelson  was  then  put  through  a  series  of  stunts  such 
as  are  practiced  at  the  training  quarters.  For  several 
minutes  he  jumped  about,  shadow  boxed  and  ran  about 
the  room  so  strenuously  that  he  was  bathed  in  perspira- 
tion and  was  breathing  hard.  In  the  midst  of  it  Dr. 
Crowley  placed  his  stethoscope  over  Nelson's  heart  and 
listened  there  for  more  than  a  minute. 

A  curious  look  came  over  his  face  and,  with  the 
pertinacity  of  a  scientist,  had  the  fighter  repeat  the  test. 

QUICK    HEART    ACTION. 

"\Yithin  15  or  20  seconds,"  said  Dr.  Crowley,  turn- 
ing to  me,  "his  heart  beats  which  were  more  than  85 
were  reduced  to  52  beats  a  minute." 

Referring  back  to  a  few  paragraphs  preceding  this 
is  found  the  doctor's  statement  that  the  average  heart 
beats  for  an  adult  man  are  about  72  a  minute. 

"An  abnormal  condition,"  said  Dr.  Crowley  referring 
to  Nelson,"  and  one  very  rarely  found." 


264  BATTLING   NELSO^ 

•  The  pertinency  of  the  questions  to  the  fighter  re- 
garding his  night  before  training  and  feelings  in  the 
rings  were  now  shown.  They  indicated  the  fact  that 
this  man  has  so  perfect  a  nervous  system,  so  rare  a 
condition,  that  neither  violent  exercise  or  mental  ex- 
citement caused  the  loss  of  a  single  ounce  of  energy  be- 
yond that  actually  required  for  the  instant. 

FIGHT  WITH  CANS. 

In  his  running  comment  that  Nelson  carried  on  dur- 
ing all  this  time  was  a  further  demonstration  of  this 
phase  of  his  character.  He  referred  to  the  accounts  of 
the  incident  in  the  last  fight  with  Cans  when  he  was 
winding  bandages  on  his  hands. 

"In  Philadelphia,"  he  continued,  "when  I  fought 
Terry  McGovern,  the  little  fellow  just  went  wild  be- 
cause I  took  a  long  time  to  fix  my  bandages.  The  longer 
I  took  the  wilder  he  got,  and  that's  why  I  always  take 
my  time." 

Not  much  of  an  incident,  but  a  straw  to  indicate  the 
personality  of  this  man  who  thinks  only  of  his  own 
end  of  an  affair,  the  coldness  of  one  who  let's  but  one 
thing  occupy  his  mind  at  a  time.  The  action  of  a  man, 
who  bore  out  the  savant's  deduction,  that  he  never 
wastes  a  particle  of  brain  energy — the  secret  of  his  re- 
cuperative powers  and  great  endurance. 

THE    THOROUGHBRED. 

It  was  while  watching  the  man,  as  cool  and  collected 
under  the  scientist's  hands  as  he  is  in  battle,  that  one  is 
impressed  with  the  fact  that  there  are  exceptions  to  all 
rules.  One  thinks  of  the  thoroughbred  chaffing  and  im- 
patient for  action,  and  admirers.  It  thrills  and  enthuses. 
Here  was  the  antithesis,  a  cool,  implacable  human  being, 
who  wasted  not  a  thought,  whose  physical  nature  only 
awaited  the  awakening  as  necessity  demanded  of  the 
powers,  who  judged  and  weighed  only  the  general  re- 
sult and  filled  with  the  supreme  egotism  that  was  na- 


BATTLING   NELSON  255 

ture's  gift — perhaps  a  paraphrase  on  life — but  as  won- 
derful as  it  was  rare. 

It  raises  the  point  that  one  cannot  by  any  means 
figure  out  this  fighter  by  the  rules  of  ordinary  life.  One 
cannot  imagine  this  man  displaying  an  emotion.  Just  a 
calm,  dispassionate  ambition  to  achieve  triumph — the 
ultra  only  of  success.  The  one  whose  paens  of  victor} 
are  only  songs. 

AN     ABNORMAL     MAX. 

Battling  Nelson  is  a  wonder  and  an  abnormal  man 
to  the  loss  of  much  that  goes  to  make  life  endurable — 
a  pure  fighting  machine  which  nature  has  lavishly  be- 
stowed with  an  unusual  gift. 

Assuming  that  the  fact  of  his  perfect  nervous  sys- 
tem being  the  secret  of  his  great  success  as  a  fighter  is 
correct,  further  reinforced  by  ring  criticism  of  those 
who  expert  fighting,  then  Nelson  has  been  sacrificed 
by  nature  by  this  gift. 

Were  he  to  be  possessed  of  all  the  pleasures  there  is 
of  falling  in  love,  for  instance — were  he  to  have  the 
impassioned  thoughts  of  the  poet — the  worry  of  a  busi- 
ness man,  or  the  fancy  of  a  painter,  he  would  be  as  a 
Samson  shorn  of  his  locks,  a  commonplace  man,  an  or- 
dinary fighter  may-be.  Thus  does  science  reach  in  and 
dissect  the  man. 

WONDERFULLY    DEVELOPED. 

"A  wonderfully  developed  athlete,"  commented  Drc 
Crowley  as  he  tapped,  twisted  and  tested  Nelson's 
muscles.  "Not  beyond  the  normal  in  anything,  but  sin- 
gularly a  well  muscled  man. 

The  measurements  of  Nelson  as  made  during  the 
examination  are  perhaps  given  for  the  first  time.  This 
statement  is  the  fighter's  own,  as  he  explained  they  were 
not  given  out  correctly  at  the  time  of  match  making 
for  obvious  reasons. 


266  BATTLING   NELSON 

By  the  tape  he  is  shown  to  be: 
Height,  5  feet  7%  inches. 
Weight  (trained),  130  to  133  pounds. 
Weight   (normal),  140  to  145  pounds. 
Waist,  27  inches. 
Chest,   34  inches. 
Expansion,  5%   inches. 
Biceps,  lo1/^  inches. 
•  Biceps    (contracted),    12   inches. 
Length  of  arm,  26  inches. 
Forearm,  10  inches. 
Middle  thigh,  19  inches. 
Calf,   14  inches. 
Ankle,  8  inches. 
Wrist,  6%  inches. 

HIS  STRENGTH. 

"This  man,"  said  Dr.  Crowley,  "has  the  same  ap- 
parent strength  of  other  men  whom  he  may  meet  in 
the  prize  ring,  yet  he  proves  himself  their  superior.  He 
has  about  the  same  expansion  of  chest,  the  same  quick- 
ness of  motion.  He  has  about  the  same  force  in  a  blow, 
the  same  height  and  weight,  yet  he  remains  solid  upon 
his  feet,  with  a  clear  brain,  when  his  opponent  is  de- 
moralized, senses  obscured,  weak,  failing,  and  finally 
succumbing.  His  secret  of  success  is  his  wonderful  and 
perfect  nervous  system.  He  has  no  irritability  of  the 
brain — of  the  nerves  that  supply  his  important  organs. 
There  is  no  waste  of  material.  He  has  no  mental  dis- 
turbance, so  important  to  one  of  the  most  essential  or- 
gans which  have  so  decided  an  influence  in  maintaining 
a  superb  physical  power.  His  brain  is  in  repose,  answer- 
ing only  those  calls  which  circumstances  demand,  and 
then  only  to  the  direct  end  of  supply  without  the  waste 
of  an  ounce  of  energy." 

NELSON   AN   EGOTIST. 

Nelson  is  likewise  an  egotist.    One  born  to  the  condi- 


BATTLING   NELSON  257 

tion  and  one  in  whom  it  is  part  of  the  natural  heritage 
of  birth.  To  depart  from  science,  it  can  be  safely 
claimed  that  Nelson,  whether  it  is  due  to  nerve  force 
or  power,  could  not  believe  it  possible  for  any  person 
to  excel  him  in  an  undertaking  of  any  sort,  and  the  so- 
called  "confidence"  credited  him  by  sporting  experts  is 
nothing  but  this  egotism  birthright. 

Those  things  which  other  fighters  do  Nelson  does  not 
do,  guided  by  his  birthright.  He  says  he  has  never 
drank  liquor  of  any  kind,  chewed  or  smoked  tobacco. 
He  does  not  believe  in  eating  to  excess.  His  logic  is 
the  same — "other  fighters  do  that,"  he  says,  and  that's 
why  he  does  not  do  them.  With  it  all  is  a  natural 
shrewdness  that  is  not  to  be  overlooked.  He  saves  his 
money  because  other  fighters  spend  it. 

Carrying  the  deductions  to  a  greater  latitude,  much 
is  opened  as  to  what  this  great  fighting  machine  has  lost 
by  his  perfect  nervous  system  and  his  natural  egotism. 
He  bears  his  championship  laurels  easily — they  are  his 
by  his  heritage  as  he  views  the  situation.  There  is  not 
much  left  to  be  considered.  There  is  not  much  else 
needed  to  complete  the  picture. 

PICTURESQUE   CHAMPION. 

He  is  easily  the  most  picturesque  of  all  the  cham- 
pions— more,  in  fact,  like  those  olden-time  fighters  who 
braved  the  dangers  of  the  ring  from  the  impelling  in- 
nate desire  to  rule.  Like  the  king  of  a  herd  whose  sway 
was  with  his  power  and  whose  power  as  the  heritage 
of  egotism. 

Nelson  truly  rules  in  several  classes  by  himself.  He 
is  a  champion  by  might  and  by  right  of  might. 

H.  A.  HERRICK. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 


Battling  Nelson  Finally  Knocks  Out  Cans 
and  is  the  Undisputed  Champion. 

I  had  determined  to  keep  in  condition  and  continue 
my  fighting  career  in  the  hope  that  I  would  finally  get 
Cans  in  a  ring  and  let  the  people  know  which  of  us  was 
really  the  better  fighter.  After  touring  the  West  I  final- 
ly started  for  Seattle,  where  I  had  intended  fighting  one 
Kid  Sealer,  but  I  stopped  off  at  Portland  in  response  to 
a  long  telegram. 

I  was  called  to  the  long  distance  telephone  upon  my 
arrival,  and  who  do  you  suppose  was  on  the  other  end 
of  the  wire?  No  other  than  Willus  Britt,  the  clever 
little  brother  of  Sir  James  Edward. 

"I  think  I  have  everything  arranged  for  a  fight  with 
Cans,"  said  Willus  in  a  clear  voice,  and  my  heart 
jumped  into  my  throat.  I  felt  that  my  life's  ambition 
was  about  to  be  realized. 

,  After  three  conversations  over  the  phone  and  a  few 
hundred  words  over  the  telegraph  wires  the  match  was 
within  a  few  hours  of  being  closed.  Johnny  Reed  very 
kindly  agreed  to  let  me  call  off  the  Sealer  match,  and  I 
beat  it  for  Frisco.  Upon  my  arrival  I  found  that  all 
arrangements  had  been  made  for  me  to  fight  Cans  on 
July  4- 

I  went  to  Mendon  Hall  Springs  for  a  week's  training 
with  my  assistants,  Jack  Grace,  Jeff  Perry,  Red  Cor- 
nett,  Percy  Dana  and  Manager  Willus  Britt. 

We  spent  a  week  at  the  springs  hunting  and  climbing 
hills  and  doing  road  work,  etc.  We  found  the  high 
altitude  very  beneficial.  Next  we  went  to  Millett's 
training  quarters  at  Colma,  Cal.,  which  had  been  my  old 
lucky  stamping  grounds. 

258 


260  BATTLING   NELSON 

We  met  at  the  lightweight  limit,  133  ringside.  The 
fight  was  to  commence  directly  after  weighing  in.  Jack 
Welsh,  of  San  Francisco,  was  mutually  agreed  upon  as 
referee  of  the  contest  by  all  parties  concerned. 

We  entered  the  ring  a  few  minutes  after  3,  and  both 
were  accorded  hearty  receptions.  After  a  bit  of  pre- 
liminary photographing  and  posing  for  the  moving  pic- 
ture machines,  we  bandaged  our  hand  and  were  ready 
for  the  fray.  .Then  old  familiar  Billy  Jordan,  the  of- 
ficial announcer,  said : 

"Gentlemen,  this  will  be  a  forty-five  round  contest, 
straight  Marquis  of  Queensberry  rules  to  govern.  Let 
'er  go!" 

SAM   BERGER  BETS  $2O  TO  WIN  $2. 

As  we  entered  the  arena,  as  usual  I  was  the  under 
dog  in  the  betting.  Anyone  who  cared  to  bet  a  dollar 
on  me  could  practically  "write  his  own  ticket."  Just 
to  give  an  idea  of  how  the  battle  looked  in  the  fourth 
round,  such  a  wise  fellow  as  the  "one  time"  fighter  Sam 
Berger,  bet  $20  against  $2  with  a  personal  friend  of 
mine  named  Joseph  Hamlet,  of  Ireland.  I  could  never 
see  where  I  had  any  the  worst  of  the  fighting  at  all,  but 
some  of  our  opinions  differ. 

After  the  seventh  round  I  had  such  a  big  lead  in  the 
fight  that  every  man  in  the  house  seemed  of  the  one 
opinion — "Nelson  is  a  sure  winner  and  it  is  only  a 
question  of  rounds  before  the  black  man  will  get  his." 

Before  our  first  battle  in  Goldfield  I  was  somewhat 
in  doubt  as  to  my  ability  of  being  able  to  defeat  the 
black  wonder — but  after  that  fight  I  was  more  confident 
than  ever. 

I  knew  full  well  that  the  negro  had  quit  in  Goldfield 
during  the  first  part  of  the  forty-second  round,  claiming 
foul,  when  the  referee  awarded  him  the  verdict. 


BATTLING   NELSON  261 

In  the  sixteenth  round  Cans  admitted  that  he  was 
being  beaten  beyond  all  question,  when  he  attempted 
to  take  unfair  means.  He  tried  to  push  me  through  the 
ropes  and  in  fact  did  everything  dirty  he  knew  how 
rather  than  be  knocked  out  by  me. 

In  the  seventeenth  round  I  became  somewhat  angered 
but  I  was  careful  not  to  lose  control  of  myself.  I  fol- 
lowed him  around  the  ring  pounding  him  unmercifully 
about  the  body. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  round  we  fell  into  a  clinch. 
As  we  were  pulling  away  I  saw  my  chance.  Drawing 
my  arm  to  one  side  about  six  inches,  I  dealt  him  a  ter- 
rible left  half -scissors  hook  squarely  on  the  top  of  his 
liver.  The  negro  let  forth  a  loud  grunt.  His  face 
twisted  up,  his  eyes  rolled  back,  and  crumpling  up  like  a 
bundle  of  paper,  he  fell  sprawling  on  the  mat.  He  was 
out  good  and  clean. 

Cans  claimed  foul  two  or  three  times  during  this 
Colma  fight,  but  his  claims  were  not  allowed  by  Referee 
Welsh. 

I  had  achieved  the  ambition  of  my  life.  I  had  licked 
them  all.  I  was  now  the  real  champion  of  the  world, 
and  nobody  could  question  my  title  in  any  way  whatever. 

My  decisive  defeat  of  the  negro  champion  at  Colma 
that  day  should  have  been  sufficient  to  convince  the  pub- 
lic that  I  was  his  master,  but  several  sport  writers  inti- 
mated that  Cans  might  have  thrown  the  fight  to  me, 
or  'laid  down,"  as  some  expressed  it. 

THE  BATTLER'S  PRIDE  ALONE  GIVES  CANS  RETURN  MATCH. 

This  worked  on  my  pride,  and  feeling  that  I  could 
beat  him  again,  I  finally  agreed  to  a  return  go.  Jimmy 
Coffroth  offered  us  flattering  inducements  to  fight  again 
at  his  club  in  Colma,  and  after  some  argument  over  de- 
tails I  agreed  to  give  the  negro  another  chance. 


BAT     STARTING     ON     THEATRICAL     TOUR. 


BATTLING   NELSON  263 

The  third  and  last  fight  with  Cans  was  decided  on 
Admission  Day,  Sept.  9. 

Eddie  Smith,  of  Oakland,  officiated  as  referee.  For 
the  first  time  in  my  life  I  entered  the  ring  an  over- 
whelming favorite  in  the  betting.  The  betting  was  just 
the  opposite  of  the  Fourth  of  July  meeting.  At  that 
time,  if  you  wanted  to  bet  on  me,  you  could  practically 
write  your  own  ticket.  In  the  present  fight,  if  you 
wanted  to  bet  on  the  negro  you  could  write  your  own 
ticket  and  there  would  be  no  questions  asked. 

Practically  all  the  betting  that  was  done  was  on  the 
number  of  rounds  the  negro  would  last.  In  the  July 
fight  I  made  two  bets  with  him — one  of  $500  against 
$1,000  that  I  would  win  the  contest;  the  other  $500 
even  money  that  I  last  twenty  rounds.  When  I  was 
making  the  bet  I  considered  it  about  the  same  thing  as 
robbing  a  man's  safe.  Xevertheless,  it  was  Cans  who 
put  the  bet  up  to  me  and  I  naturally  accepted  it. 

In  the  September  fight  I  offered  the  negro  the  same 
bets  that  he  offered  me  in  the  other  match,  only  I  was 
the  favorite  this  time,  but  he  refused  to  consider  them. 

Just  before  commencing  the  battle  I  walked  over 
to  Gans's  corner  and  reminded  him  of  the  dirty,  mean, 
contemptible,  foul  methods  he  used  in  the  sixteenth 
round  of  our  last  battle,  when  he  tried  to  push  me 
through  the  ropes  and  possibly  injure  me  for  life  by 
so  doing. 

THE  BATTLER  WARNS  CANS. 

I  warned  him  that  if  he  attempted  any  of  those  tricks 
or  resorted  to  any  unfair  means  during  the  battle  he 
would  get  all  that  was  coming  to  him. 

If  Cans  had  any  hope  of  winning  this  battle  before 
we  entered  the  ring  he  lost  it  all  right  there.  He  seemed 
to  turn  "white"  with  fright. 


264  BATTLING   NELSON 

At  the  end  of  the  twentieth  round  it  was  noticed  that 
Cans  shook  hands  with  his  manager,  Benny  Selig,  as 
much  as  to  say,  "Well,  I  won,"  meaning  he  lasted  twen- 
ty rounds  and  won  his  twenty-round  money. 

Joe's  time  after  that  was  very  short-lived.  In  the 
twenty-first  round  he  went  out  with  a  spirit  of  do-or-die, 
taking  a  chance  of  mixing  for  the  first  time  during  the 
entire  fight,  with  hopes  of  either  landing  a  lucky  punch 
or  being  laid  away,  thus  ending  his  sufferings. 

He  certainly  bumped  into  several  good  hard  punches 
by  taking  that  chance,  as  I  finally  succeeded  in  hooking 
that  now  famous  "left  half-scissors  hook"  into  his  liver. 
As  soon  as  I  had  landed  that  punch  I  could  tell  that  his 
finish  was  near.  I  stepped  back  a  bit  to  steady  myself 
to  land  another  similar  punch  when  he  keeled  over  on 
his  head,  helpless  and  unable  to  continue. 

This  made  the  third  time  that  I  had  fought  the  same 
Cans  and  beat  him  each  and  every  time  with  the  same 
identical  punch — the  "left  hand  scissors  hook,"  which 
was  originated  by  me. 

Following  the  grand  manner  in  which  I  defeated  the 
negro  this  time,  I  took  to  the  road,  doing  theatrical 
work  in  the  various  cities,  accompanied  by  Joe  Galligan 
of  Chicago,  the  newsboy  champion,  as  my  sparring  part- 
ner. 

While  showing  in  Detroit  the  following  fall  the 
world's  championship  baseball  series  opened  between  the 
Chicago  Cubs,  of  the  National  League,  and  the  Detroit 
Tigers,  of  the  American  League.  By  reporting  these 
games  for  a  syndicate  of  papers  I  became  a  writer. 
After  the  championship  series  I  again  took  up  my 
theatrical  tour  for  a  few  weeks.  Then  I  returned  to 
my  home,  Hegewisch,  Illinois,  to  finish  the  final  chapters 
of  this  book,  entitled  "Life,  Battles  and  Career  of  Bat- 
tling Nelson,  Lightweight  Champion  of  the  World." 


265 


I 


1 


